Lover Eternal
by Nocte Ambulavero
Summary: Scarred and broken, Syri, a Were-cheetah, has hidden herself from the world. When Ash tells Savitar she's his Fate, Savitar struggles to protect her from both his enemies and his own uncontrollable love and passion for her. DH and characters not mine.
1. The Final Fate

"Do you want to die Atlantean?"

Savitar didn't open his eyes as he spoke to Acheron. The waves lapped gently at his feet, the sand was warm at his back, and the sun was a pleasant warmth on his bare chest. But the semblance of peace that lay over the beach on Neratiti, the floating island, was a precarious thing. If Acheron didn't want to die, he was going to leave. Now.

"Would you like to know your future?" Acheron answered.

Savitar cracked open one eye.

"You can't see my future."

It wasn't a question. The Final Fate couldn't see the futures of those he was close to, and as much as they both hated to admit it, each was more important to the other than they could say. Which, in Savitar's opinion, was no easy feat considering he would much rather examine his nails than help anything or anyone else. At least Acheron had a sense of compassion.

"If you're just screwing with me Ash, I'm going to turn you into shark bait and throw you into the ocean."

"I'm not screwing with you Sav."

"Then explain to me how you saw my future."

"I never said I could see _your_ future."

"What?"

"Just because I can't see yours, doesn't mean I can't see hers."

Savitar looked like he was going to choke.

"What?"

"Yeah, like I'm not surprised either. I went to Sanctuary to talk to the bears, and lo and behold, the girl in the back corner has a gaping hole in her future shielded by so much power and annoying-ness it could only be you."

"Hilarious."

Savitar sat up raking a hand through his dark brown-black waves.

"Love is for the weak Acheron. You should know that better than anyone."

Savitar himself had taught the Atlantean Chthonian how to control his powers. He was one of the two people that Savitar held any affection for, and he knew exactly who and what Acheron was, what his past was like.

"Love has made my Hunters stronger than you would believe," Ash answered.

"And I'm not one of your Hunters. I'm a god-killer, so watch it or I will crush you."

Acheron shrugged, obviously not in the mood to get into a fight no one knew the outcome to. They were both more powerful than any god from any pantheon, and if they ever went against each other…

Goodbye to the rest of the universe.

"I don't need to deal with some pathetic Were who wants me to actually _love_ them," Sav growled, spitting the world "love" like it was a curse.

"She's not a Were."

"Human then."

"Nope. Or apollite. Or daimon. Or a goddess."

"Then what is she? A rock?"

Acheron let out a short laugh.

"You'll see. She's staying at Vane Kattalakis's by the way."

"Why?"

"Don't know."

Savitar curled his lip. He didn't particularly want to know what happened in the next few thousand years of his future. The last few millennia had been boring as hell, and there wasn't much that could change that. Certainly not something as pathetic as a woman. There was no way he was going.

"Oh, and before you go," Ash added. "Get rid of the goatee. She'll think it's tacky."

He smirked before he disappeared just as Savitar sent a god-bolt at him.

Savitar growled at the empty air, and the nearby water boiled in reaction. There was no way that he was ever setting foot on Kattalakis property. As one of the two most powerful people in the universe, he listened to no one. He wasn't going.

Ever.

* * *

><p>Three days later, Savitar stood goatee-less on the doorstep of Vane Kattalakis.<p>

"I hate you," he grumbled to the tiny Charonte demon who perched on his shoulder.

"If the Simi didn't love _akri_, she would barbecue you. You would make good eats."

Savitar laughed shortly.

Simi had come banging on his door that morning, demanding that he "go find his_ akribos_". After that they'd had an argument, which she'd won of course. Simi was Ash's demon, though she called them both _akri_, and he would never say no to the two of them, though they didn't really have to know that.

So here he was, supposedly chasing after his destiny.

"Go home Sim, I'm sure Ash is looking for you."

"Akri off with the heifer goddess."

Savitar curled his lip. Artemis. If he could, he'd blast that abomination of the face of Olympus. But doing so would kill Acheron as well, so he tolerated the bitch. For now. As soon as he figured out a way for Ash to survive without Artemis's blood, she was gone.

"Fine, you can stay."

Simi squealed with happiness and slipped off his shoulder to hover in front of him.

"But," Savitar warned. "You're going to have to look human."

She immediately dropped to the ground.

"And you have to hide your horns."

"My hornays?"

"Yes Sim. I don't know how much she knows about us, and I don't want her to faint because the winged-demon woman with horns tried to put barbecue sauce on her and eat her."

Simi pouted, but her horns disappeared.

"Can the Simi go meet your _akra_ now?"

Savitar grimaced, but nodded. He flashed them into the house, not really caring whether he was invading privacy or not. It wasn't like there was any power on earth or beyond that could punish him for it.

They appeared in the living room.

Vane Kattalakis, the Arcadian Lykos Regis to the Omegrion sat on the couch, his wife Bride just coming in from the kitchen. Vane raised an eyebrow as he recognized them. Bride nearly dropped the tea mug she was carrying as she took in Savitar's appearance.

"Not to be rude," Vane said mildly, getting up and moving to stand protectively in front of his mate. "But can you put on some clothes?"

Savitar shrugged and exchanged the wetsuit he'd been wearing with the top unzipped and the arms tied around his waist for a pair of blue and white board shorts and an unbuttoned hawaiian shirt. But seeing the way Bride was eyeing the multicolored tattoos that covered most of his body, he quickly flashed on a white t-shirt instead, effectively covering them up.

"So, what brings you here?" Vane asked.

"Acheron."

The wolf raised an eyebrow.

"What does Ash want?"

"He doesn't want anything."

"Well obviously, or he'd be here himself."

"Watch it pup. I'll barbecue you and let Simi at you."

Vane started as he noticed Simi for the first time.

"Hey Sim."

"Hi Vane. Don't make_ akri_ upset or he'll make your head explode. Simi don't want your head to explode."

Sav let out a nasty laugh, partly because of Simi, partly because of the stricken look on Bride's face.

"Ah, I won't do anything to your husband," he said, waving his hand in dismissal of the idea. "I have no interest in him right now anyway. I want the girl."

"What girl?" Vane asked, confused.

"The one who's currently in your guest room staring out the window wishing that you guys lived somewhere with a better view."

Savitar frowned. The mind upstairs was shadowed, troubled. He was used to seeing thoughts as dark and pained as this, but in people like Acheron and Vane. People with the temper and the power to push through it. The girl upstairs wasn't exactly helpless, but she certainly possessed no remarkable power that he was picking up on.

"You mean Syriana?" Bride asked.

"Whatever her name is."

"What do you want with her?"

Savitar's lip curved. The woman in front of his was human. Pretty worthless if you asked him. And yet she looked like she was ready to take him on to defend the woman upstairs. He had to admire courage like that.

"Easy Bride. I have no intentions of harming her."

"What do you want with her?"

He actually smiled.

"Just to talk."

"What does Ash have to do with it?"

"He told me to."

Savitar stayed vague on that subject, not quite ready for anyone to know that the woman upstairs was supposedly his destiny. But Vane didn't question him, and for that, he was grateful.

"She's in the guest bedroom. Third door on the right," he said.

Nodding, Savitar was about to flash upstairs, when a thought occurred to him.

"Wolf, would you mind keeping Simi with you?"

"The Simi want to go meet your _akribos_!"

"She's not my _akribos_," he snapped in a harsher tone than he'd intended, gritting his teeth as Vane recognized the Atlantean endearment.

He winced as Simi's face flashed hurt.

"Just stay with Vane okay?" he asked in a softer tone. "If you ask nicely, I'm sure he'll even find you something to barbecue."

Smiling in satisfaction, Simi disappeared into the kitchen.

"Watch her," Savitar said just before he disappeared. "She's eating your fridge right now. Literally."

Once upstairs, he paused outside the guest room.

He could hear her inside, her breathing, her heartbeat. Her mind was a jumble of uncertainty and worry.

This was going to be interesting.

He opened the door and stepped inside, moving quietly so she wouldn't hear him. She was indeed sitting in front of the large bay window, perched on the sizable windowsill with a soft pink blanket wrapped around her. Her back was turned to him, her auburn hair, much the same color as Bride's, falling in a loose braid to her waist.

He cleared his throat to get her attention.

She whirled to face him, the blanket dropping to the ground as she nearly fell off the sill in her surprise. Her hazel eyes were large in a tiny face, definitely the dominating feature. They were framed by a thick fringe of lashes a shade darker than her hair. Her face was all softly curved lines, her nose a delicate slope, her cheekbones high with an appealing flush. Her lips were pale pink, the lower one slightly fuller than the upper. But none of this was what caught his attention first.

It was the scars that ran from her hairline to her neck, disappearing under her shirt.

Something foreign in his body growled at the sight. He didn't exactly care much for humanity, or anything for that matter, but if this girl really was his…. The feral side of him hissed as he examined the rest of her.

She was average height, maybe five six or so. But even wearing leggings and an oversized t-shirt, he could tell she was thin, painfully and unhealthily so. She was ghostly pale, her black clothes too harsh against the delicateness of her skin. Another set of scars started on her left wrist, coiling around her arm to stop just below her shoulder, like she'd tried to twist away from whatever had cut her. Glancing back at the set on her face, he peered more closely at the four marks that started at the center of her forehead to disappear down the left side of her neck. And as he examined them closer, Savitar realized they were claw marks.

A Were had done this to her. There was no other explanation for why she was at a Kattalakis's house. He growled.

She flinched back.

Wary of the instant contrite that flashed through him, he took a step forward.

"I won't hurt you," he said, seeing her eyes, more amber than hazel he now noted, widen at his approach.

"Who are you?"

He froze.

She certainly wasn't the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, most definitely not someone who would normally have attracted him. She was too delicate, too thin.

But her voice. It captivated him. Just as soft and graceful as the rest of her, it slid around his body like warm honey. It raised chills on his skin. Even laden with fear, her voice was beautiful enough to rival the Muses.

"My name is Savitar Chthonian," he finally answered.

He added the last name for her benefit, even though he didn't have one, and if he did, he didn't remember it. Hell, he didn't even remember when he'd been born. And though Acheron had said she wasn't human, she looked mortal enough. Humans were particular about knowing last names.

"You're a god-killer?"

Savitar winced at that. He hadn't expected her to know what a Chthonian was.

"Well about that…"

He opted for blasé and shrugged.

"I haven't killed a god in a while. Not as fun as it used to be."

She looked horrified.

"Wrong approach?" he asked.

"Kind of."

Her lips hinted at a smile, and Savitar frowned, not quiet sure what to make of her.

He didn't doubt for a second that he could crush her with no more than a thought. She had that vulnerable and hesitant side that would get her killed within seconds if she ever met a Were. And though he knew Vane held a compassion for humans that far outweighed that of normal shifters, even other Arcadians, it surprised him that he let her stay here.

She watched him with eyes full of wariness, and yet he sensed a core of steel within her, something that refused to be broken. By merely standing in front of him, she contradicted herself. He could tell she wanted to run, feel the fear coming off her in waves. It called to the animal part of himself, but strangely, he didn't want to attack her.

"What's your name?" he asked to fill in the silence.

"Syriana."

"No last name?"

"Well it's not god-killer…"

Much to his surprise, he laughed. She was looking at him like he was ten feet tall with horns and breathing fire, yet she made jokes with him.

"You have nothing to fear from me sweeting. I told you I wouldn't hurt you, and I stand by my word."

She hesitated before answering.

"Katapardos."

He raised an eyebrow. The Katapardos were a powerful Were family. They were Arcadian Helikias...cheetahs. Then again, it would explain how she'd been attacked, and why she was now in the house of the most powerful Arcadian in the world.

"Acheron told me you're not a shifter."

"Acheron?"

She seemed wary of the name.

"You know him?"

"No."

"So why are you scared of him?"

"Because you seem to respect him."

He laughed again, delighted with her intuitiveness. It wasn't often someone could read his emotions. Not even Acheron and Simi could.

"Yes, I do. He and his daughter are the only people I've _ever_ respected."

"Good to know."

Gods, what was wrong with him? He _hated_ feeling. Hell, he hated everything. The main difference between him and Acheron was that Ash was devoted to saving humanity. He and his Dark-Hunters were the only thing that stood between the daimons and the earth's destruction. There was more responsibility on his shoulders than Savitar would ever allow to be dumped on himself, and yet, Ash remained as compassionate as ever. Meanwhile, the only thing Savitar ever had to worry about was heading the Omegrion, and he didn't even want to do that on most days.

And here he was, chatting with a woman, a mortal no less, and enjoying it.

_Can Chthonians get the _trelosa_?_

He frowned at the thought of the Were version of rabies. He'd been hanging around them too long.

"So you're not a Were?"

"No."

"Then is it just a coincidence that you have the same last name as the most powerful Helikias family in the world?"

"No."

_What's with the one word answers?_

"How can you be a Were but not be able to shift?"

Her face closed off. He'd hit a nerve.

And though he could easily read her mind, he found himself unwilling to. There was something about her spontaneity that greatly amused him, and he didn't want to infringe on it. He relinquished his ability to read her mind. Momentarily at least. His powers weren't given to him like the Dark-Hunters. He couldn't just get rid of them when he wanted to, at least not for long.

"You don't want to talk about it," he observed.

"No. I don't."

She picked up her blanket, wrapping it around herself as she curled back up on the sill. The pale pink suited her fair skin much better than the black of her clothes did. At the same time, it made her look almost childish, the way she was sitting while clutching her blanket like it was a lifeline.

"Did you need something Savitar Chthonian?" she asked.

"Last names too? A bit formal don't you think?"

"No."

"Easy little cheetah. I just want to talk."

"I'm not a shifter, I told you. And I don't want to talk."

In fact, she looked like she'd like nothing more than for him to disappear.

"Well then little cheetah-"

He grinned at the flash in her eyes.

"Very well. I'll be back later."

He paused before he flashed downstairs. For some reason he didn't even want to begin to comprehend, he didn't want to leave her. Which was exactly why he flashed to the kitchen, grabbed Simi, and flashed to Katoteros.

"I thought you were with Artemis," he said irritably when he found Acheron lounging on his throne, strumming his guitar.

"I just needed to talk to her."

"Whoopee."

"I take it things didn't go well?"

"Well you can take that and shove it up your-"

"The Simi is hungry."

Sav gritted his teeth together.

"Not now Simi."

Acheron waved his hand and Diamonique appeared in a pile in the corner. Squealing something like "the Simi has the bestest _akri_ in the world", she flew to her room to grab her barbecue sauce before settling down to eat.

"She's a Helikias Ash," Sav growled. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well she can't shift, so I didn't think it was relevant."

"How is that possible?"

"Ask her."

Sav shot a god-bolt into the wall, splintering it.

"Don't screw with me right now Ash. You tell me she's my freaking destiny, and then I can't get two words out of her."

"You like her."

It wasn't a question, and Savitar splintered the opposite wall.

"She's terrified of me."

"Who wouldn't be?"

Savitar growled threateningly.

"Who is she Ash?"

"Honestly? I don't know. Right after you went to see her, she disappeared too. I don't know who she is, so I should be able to see her future, but you're so powerful that you covered hers with yours. I can't see her anymore than I can see you or Sim."

"Damn it Ash. Is that all you can give me?"

"I can tell you that you should go see her again."

"Dating advice from you. That's rich."

"Seriously Sav. Just talk to her."

Savitar curled his lip.

"I'm not going to see her again. Ever."

"That's what you said last time."

"She's pathetic Ash. At least if she was a Were she'd possess some power."

"We both know you don't mean that. You like her. And that terrifies you."

Savitar's lavender eyes turned black, and the air around him darkened, crackling with energy.

"Don't forgot who taught you to use your powers neophyte," he snarled.

Acheron met his gaze directly, his silver swirling eyes calm.

"I haven't forgotten. But you're also my friend. I won't see you throw away your future just because you're stubborn."

Savitar growled again.

"What does that mean?"

"You'll see."


	2. True Strength

"**Syri honey, you have to eat something."**

**Syriana smiled at Bride, nodding her head without saying anything. **

**Bride was an absolutely beautiful woman both inside and out. She had a lushly curved body and the kindest soul anyone could ask for. Even Syriana, who would much rather shut herself away from the rest of the world than anything, felt comfortable with her. Bride was her best friend, if not her substitute mother.**

**Gods forbid she ever run into her real mother, who had tried to kill her when she'd been born, then left her to die in the wilderness.**

"**I ate before and-"**

"**Oh, you can eat more. You're too thin hon."**

**Bride's husband Vane nodded in agreement, his odd hazel eyes worried as they watched her.**

**Syriana worked on giving him a smile too. She knew exactly what Vane was, and the fact that the most powerful aristos in the world was sitting across from her didn't escape her. She was wary of all Weres, Arcadians especially, and though Vane had been nothing but kind since she'd met him, he still scared her.**

"**Thanks Bride," she said, switching her gaze over to her friend. **

"**No problem hon."**

**Bride nodded in satisfaction as she handed Syriana a bowl of fruit. She stared pointedly at the fork until Syri picked it up and popped a piece of honeydew into her mouth. Giving Vane a look that very clearly said you-better-make-sure-she-eats-all-of-that-by-the-time-I-come-back, she disappeared out of the dining room to go tend to her infant son Trace.**

"**You feeling okay?" Vane asked after a while, leaning back and crossing his arms over his muscled chest.**

**She nodded.**

"**Do you know who it was that paid you a visit?"**

"**You certainly do."**

**She could see from the way Vane's eyes flashed a healthy dose of respect before he masked them that he knew Savitar. Very well if she wasn't mistaken. Then again, from the way that Savitar had acted in her room, she doubted anyone knew him well if at all.**

"**I do. He's the head of the Omegrion."**

**Syri nodded in understanding. She'd heard a few times about the Were council.**

"**Why was he here?"**

"**I was hoping you could tell me that. Savitar never pays casual visits. Ever."**

"**He said he wanted to talk. And then he just disappeared."**

**Vane shrugged. **

"**No one can explain what Savitar does."**

"**He wanted something."**

"**He told you that?"**

"**No. I could just tell."**

**Her ability to read people was one of the only things she cherished. She wasn't a telepath or an empath, but she had an uncanny intuitiveness that came in handy considering she hated talking to most people in general.**

"**Well, he probably won't be back. You don't have anything to worry about."**

"**Is he...dangerous?"**

"**Think of someone who has the ability to destroy the world with a thought, multiply that by a hundred to the tenth power, and that's Savitar."**

**Syriana flinched. No one should have that type of power. She knew that people with much less could wreak destruction in a person's life devastating enough to make them want to die. Someone with the power to destroy the world…**

"**That's dangerous," she murmured, setting down her fork.**

"**It is," Vane agreed. "But Sav's not evil. At least I don't think he is. He did destroy the entire Arcadian Balios Patria…"**

"**He did what?"**

"**They pissed him off."**

**Syri was aghast.**

"**That's no excuse for doing that."**

"**He could kill us all with a thought. I'm sure for him at least, it didn't seem like a big deal."**

**Just what exactly was Savitar?**

"**He wouldn't...he wouldn't hurt you guys, would he?" she asked nervously. **

"**Why would you ask that?"**

"**He didn't seem very...happy when he came here."**

"**Sav's never happy. And you don't have to worry, Ash will keep him in check."**

"**Ash?"**

"**Acheron."**

"**He's Savitar's friend."**

"**What?"**

"**When he said his name, his eyes flashed. He wasn't angry anymore."**

**Savitar's vibrant lavender eyes had gentled, become almost human except for the power she could see swirling in their depths. **

"**I know that they know each other. Never knew they were friends."**

**Vane looked thoughtful.**

"**Either way, I doubt he would bother with us again. And if he did, Acheron would step in. Ash doesn't tolerate needless killing."**

"**Who is this Ash?"**

"**He leads the Dark-Hunters."**

**Syri cocked her head to the side. She'd heard of the Dark-Hunters Artemis had created to fight the offspring of her twin Apollo. Soulless and immortal, they were supposedly the baddest things that stalked the night.**

"**Is he that powerful?"**

"**It's a toss up between him and Sav. But trust me, no one wants to know the outcome if they fight, not that there'd be anyone left alive to see it."**

**They lapsed into silence, Vane still watching her with his eerily intense eyes, Syri fidgeting with the tablecloth.**

"**Vane?" she asked after a while.**

"**Yeah?"**

"**Why did you take me in?"**

**Vane hesitated before he answered that.**

"**I know what it's like to have no where to go," he finally replied. "It's not your fault what happened, and it's not right that you're exiled for it. The Omegrion would never officially banish you, but I know what you went through."**

**He smiled slightly.**

"**Besides, Bride likes you."**

"**What do you mean 'besides'? We both know that's the main reason."**

**Syri surprised herself with her amused response, but she really did adore her friend. And Vane was the most protective and simultaneously doting husband she'd ever met. Even if they hadn't been mates, she had no doubt they would've been together. He would never say no to her. Syri was sure that if Bride had asked for something as impossible as the moon, Vane still would've found a way to give it to her.**

"**Bride swears you're her second child," Vane said, laughing lightly.**

"**Does she know I'm almost two decades older than her?"**

"**Yes. But in Were years, you're barely out of puberty."**

"**I'm not a Were."**

**The answer was automatic, and Vane's expression softened.**

"**You still are Syri. No matter what anyone says. I've seen the strength in your heart, even though you hide it from the rest of the world. You are one of us, and you always will be."**

"**Vane-"**

**She hesitated, not knowing what to say, but he smiled again understandingly.**

"**I know. I'm incredibly sappy for an aristos. It's Bride. She's rubbing off on me."**

**She smiled back, and he seemed extremely pleased about that.**

"**Now eat your fruit," he instructed amusedly. "I don't fancy the consequences if Bride comes back and you haven't."**

* * *

><p>"<strong>A bit to the right," Syri murmured.<strong>

**The eagle spreading its wings in the tree above her shifted slightly, and she snapped the shot. Screeching shrilly at the flash of the camera, the eagle took to the sky and soon disappeared into the horizon. Smiling as she checked the picture on her camera, Syri wandered deeper into the woods.**

**Photography was the one thing that calmed her, the one thing that made her feel alive anymore. Her professional photographer's camera was a familiar, comforting weight as it hung from the strap at her neck, the metal and plastic warm against her palm. **

**Though her lens, she could look at the world without fear. The forest around her was peaceful, relaxing. She'd been here for hours, and she'd already ran through two rolls of film, which were in the drawstring bag at her back. She trailed deeper into the trees.**

**It was silent except for the sound of her breathing, but she preferred it that way. These trips into the wilderness were the only times Syri ever felt herself finally let go of the walls she kept around herself when she was with other people. It was exhausting constantly pretending she was fine, when she wanted nothing more than to forget the past. **

"**It's dangerous walking in the woods alone."**

**Syri jumped and bit back a scream at the sound of a voice behind her. She whirled.**

"**Savitar?" she asked, shocked.**

"**In the flesh."**

**She bit her lip. **

**He was every bit as gorgeous as he had been the first time she'd seen him. He was tall, probably six foot eight, with a lean, muscular body that was masculinity in its finest form. Even she, who never wanted to touch another man so long as she lived, found him highly attractive.**

**His wavy black-brown hair hung just past his ears, long, but appealingly so. He had dusky skin that could've been Italian or Spanish, or even Arabian. His face was a photographer's dream. It was all razor sharp angles that bled beauty and grace. A perfectly straight nose and perfectly angled cheek bones gave him a regal look, his artfully arched brows aristocratic. His square jaw had an arrogant set accented by the disdainful curve of his lush lips. But despite all of that, it was his eyes that drew her.**

**They were a lavender so intense that they nearly glowed. Secrets and power lay in their depths. But there was a loneliness that ran soul-deep too, one that reached out to her heart.**

"**Hi Savitar," she said in a soft voice.**

"**No last names this time?"**

"**No."**

"**Then hello Syriana."**

**His voice was as dark as sin, not quite rough, and not quite smooth either. It was a low caress that was nearly tangible as it slid along her skin and made her shiver. His walk as he appeared from between the trees was a predator's loose-limbed prowl. Power bled from every pore in his body.**

"**You dress oddly."**

**She couldn't help saying the words as she look at him. His board shorts were checkered black and toxic green. His shirt was red and white hawaiian. He had on biker boots. And his body was covered in colorful tattoos that swirled over his olive-gold skin. His open shirt gave her a good view of the dragon that coiled around his chest, not to mention an eight-pack of abs that rippled with every breath he took. **

"**You don't like what I'm wearing?" he asked, furrowing a brow. "I've never had anyone say that to me before. They're too scared."**

"**I never said I didn't like it. And just because I told you the truth doesn't mean I'm not scared."**

"**So you are?"**

**She thought about that for a second. **

**Her first answer was yes. A very loud, resounding yes. But the more she watched him, the more she realized that there was nothing threatening about the way he was looking at her. He looked merely curious as he leaned against a tree and crossed his arms over his chest while he watched her. **

"**I am and I'm not," she finally answered.**

"**Diplomatic answer."**

"**Vane...Vane told me how powerful you are. He told me what you did."**

"**What I did?"**

"**All the people you killed."**

"**Sweeting, you're going to have to be a lot more specific than that. I've killed a lot of people."**

**She worked not to show her disgust.**

"**Ah. **_**Now **_**you're scared of me."**

"**You can read my mind?"**

"**I can read everyone's. Not a big deal."**

**She instantly blanked out her thoughts.**

"**Get out of my head."**

"**So demanding."**

"**My thoughts are my own."**

**She winced as she imagined what it would be like for a total stranger to know her past. She was surprised he already didn't, considering how powerful he was and how big a deal her...impairments had been in the Were world years ago.**

"**Please," she said in a softer voice, asking now. "Stop it."**

**He frowned. **

"**Fine."**

**She relaxed.**

"**Thank you."**

"**Don't say thanks. It makes you weak."**

"**But I am thankful."**

**He shook his head in disappointment, like he couldn't quite comprehend why someone would be polite. **

"**We'll work on that," she thought she heard him mutter.**

"**I don't want to be rude" she started. "But...why are you here?"**

**He shrugged.**

"**Hell if I know."**

**He pushed off the tree to walk over to her.**

"**You're taking pictures?"**

"**I'm a photographer."**

**Snorting, he held his hand out.**

"**Can I see?"**

**She handed him her camera, not taking it off from around her neck. It forced her to step closer to him, and she gasped at the sudden proximity. Her shoulder brushed his bare chest, and electricity snapped down her spine. She jerked away, nearly strangling herself.**

**His eyes widened too, but he said nothing. He bent his head as he started scrolling through the pictures, his face unreadable.**

"**You have a gift for this," he murmured. **

**His gaze met hers, eyes glowing in the dying sunlight. **

"**There's beauty in your pictures."**

**He said it with such sincerity that she flushed, not knowing what to say. She could tell from the way he spoke, the way he held himself, that his life hadn't been an easy one. Vane had said he was older than time, and to spend that time alone…**

"**Do you have a family?" she asked.**

"**No."**

**The answer was quick, assured.**

"**No one you care for?"**

"**No."**

**But this time, she could see the flickering in his eyes before he masked it.**

"**You're lying," she said softly.**

**His hand shot out to her shoulder, but this time, he didn't so much as blink at the current that flowed between them.**

"**What?"**

**Syri felt the raw power in his grip. This was a man who had power that even the gods feared, and she had no doubt he had no qualms using it. His expression flashed dangerously, but she refused to lie, no matter how much this man scared her.**

"**You have people you care for," she answered quietly. "I can see it in your eyes."**

**He gave her back her camera and pulled back.**

"**How do you know that?"**

"**You're eyes flickered when you said no."**

**This time, he seemed more intrigued than angry.**

"**Did you know you are the first person to even attempt to understand me? Everyone is terrified of me."**

"**Even the gods?"**

"**Them the most of all. They know how heartless I am."**

"**You're not."**

**He growled.**

"**Watch it little cheetah. I don't take kindly to being contradicted."**

"**Sorry."**

**She looked down, but not before she saw his expression soften a degree. **

"**What about your family?" he asked.**

**Against her will, memories flooded her mind.**

**It'd taken nearly a week for her mother to discover what she was. When she had, Tacheia Katapardos had thrown her daughter into the woods to die, claiming that as an Arcadian, she was "too human to do it herself". Her father had done nothing. **

"**I have no family," she told Savitar. "None I want to claim. The only parent I ever knew was murdered by the woman who gave birth to me because he took me in when he found me where she'd abandoned me."**

"**Your father?"**

"**To my knowledge, the haven't spoken to each other in years. My older brothers live together in Atlanta."**

**It was the way of their kind. Cheetah females and males only joined to mate. When the female cubs grew up, they left to live alone. The males stayed together for life.**

"**They don't care about you?"**

**Syri knew that Savitar was only asking a question, but it hurt nonetheless.**

"**I haven't seen any of them since I was one week old. I wouldn't know."**

**Savitar's hand as it touched her chin to tilt her eyes up to his was achingly gentle. She wouldn't have thought that a man like him was capable of it, but his warm hand was comforting as it touched her cheek.**

"**No one deserves to lose their family like that," he said quietly. "I'm sorry that you have, my sweet."**

"**It's nothing," she whispered. "Why would you care?"**

**She was so used to being alone, so used to taking care of herself. She couldn't fathom that someone would actually want to know anything about her. And even if they did, she wouldn't trust them. She'd been hurt too many times in her life to be stupid enough to do that. **

**So what surprised her most was when his arms circled her waist and his lips found hers. **


	3. First in Seventeen Thousand

He didn't know why he'd kissed her.

But it was something about the way she'd been looking at him, her amber eyes alight with grief and pain. The part of himself even he didn't want to examine too closely, the part of him that seemed to want her, it'd driven him to pull her into his arms. It'd driven him to cover her mouth with his as he kissed her as passionately as he knew how, trying to put her pain from her mind.

She gasped softly, and he only crushed her closer. Something in him roared to life at the taste of her. She tasted so sweet and appealing that it intoxicated him, and he parted her lips with his so he could tangle their tongues together. She was warm and pliant in his arms.

Until her palms pressed flat against his chest and she shoved him away.

"No," she said in a strangled voice.

She jumped away from him like he'd electrocuted her, eyes wild. Her breathing was quick and shallow, her cheeks flushed and her lips red from his kisses.

"No," she repeated in a whisper.

She fled into the woods.

* * *

><p>"He is a Slayer," Patrice Leonides, the Arcadian Litarian Regis hissed. "He should be put down."<p>

"Says who, one of your sentinels?" Vincenzo Moretti retorted.

The Katagaria jackal scowled darkly.

"There is nothing wrong with him," Stefan Kouris seconded.

"Katagaria," Patrice sneered.

The leopard leaned forward, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Do not test me lioness."

Patrice leaned forward as well, the two of them looking like they wanted to have it out right there in the middle of the Omegrion meeting.

Savitar waved his hand and slammed both of them back into their seats.

"You have twenty minutes left," he said in a bored voice. "My wave comes in at exactly 12:32. I better be on the beach by then or I'll kill whoever held me up. We clear? Good."

He leaned back on his throne while the conversation picked up again. He wasn't paying attention to it. Some Katagaria lion who the Arcadians wanted to make a scapegoat out of wasn't his concern. The Omegrion would vote, and their decision would be carried out. And considering there was one more Katagaria Patria than Arcadian, it was already clear who would win. He almost regretted unbalancing the council by making Arcadian jaguars extinct. Almost.

But the thing foremost on his mind right now was Syriana.

The woman fascinated him, infuriated him. She seemed to see him in a way no one else did, and she didn't seem afraid of telling him so. Though he knew she feared him, could smell it and feel it every time he was near her, she had an unerring need to tell the truth that had her saying things to him other people didn't dare to. He felt like he could talk to her as himself, and he cherished that more than he could say, though he would never admit it.

What appealed to him most though, was how strong she acted though he knew how broken she was. She held herself together with a strength he knew few people possessed. In his eternity in this world, he'd never met someone like her. The woman he'd met had been weak, useless. They'd wanted him for nothing more than sex, or they hadn't wanted him at all. And despite the walls Syri always threw up in defense when she was around him, he knew she was different.

She'd been as drawn to him as he was to her, yet she hadn't lusted after his body. But that she felt passion, he had no doubt. He'd proven that when he'd kissed her and she'd turned completely pliant and responsive in his arms. But then she'd pulled away and nearly ran in her efforts to escape him. He'd had the power to being her back to him, but he hadn't. There were ghosts in her past he refused to dig in her mind for, memories that he knew she wanted to keep hidden and that she'd tell him when she was ready. Even so, the the only thing he could think of that would make her panic when he kissed her was that she'd been abused in her past.

The thought made his temper flare dangerously.

The woman was a passing curiosity to him, one he'd get over in the near future, or so he told himself. The other option didn't bear thinking about. He needed nothing and no one. And yet the thought of her hurt infuriated him. The scars that covered her body did nothing to detract from her beauty in his eyes, but they made his blood boil. He had a feeling that if she hadn't been abused, she'd have been able to look him in the eye with no fear at all. The idea intrigued him.

_Admit it_ his mind whispered. _She draws you to her like a moth to a flame._

He gritted his teeth.

He wanted not to care. Hell, he even wanted to hate her. But he couldn't, and that scared him more than anything ever had. He had enough power to end the world, and yet he was afraid of a mortal woman and the emotions she aroused in him. The fact that she made him feel at all was enough warning for him. Acheron had been right. Syriana Katapardos was a part of his future.

Because no matter how much he didn't want to admit it, he refused to let her go.

"Savitar?"

Sav cursed mentally. He'd been so wrapped up in Syri that he'd nearly missed his wave. It was already 12:29.

"What?" he said. "Has the council decided?"

Dante Pontis, the man who had spoken nodded. Savitar waved his hand in permission for the Katagaria panther to speak.

"The lion is innocent."

Savitar stood.

"Like everyone didn't know that was going to happen," he muttered.

He faced the council.

"The Omegrion is dismissed," he said. "Return home."

Everyone flashed out of the room.

Except for Vane Kattalakis.

"Would you be willing to miss your wave Savitar?" he asked when the room was empty except for the two of them.

"No."

Sav was about to send the wolf back to his house by force, when Vane spoke.

"It's about Syriana."

Sav cursed how fast he immediately dismissed any thoughts of leaving. But regardless, he sat back down.

"What is it?" he asked.

"What did you do to her?"

Worry flashed through him.

"Is something wrong with her?"

Vane seemed just as surprised about his concern as he was.

"No, nothing's wrong with her. I think."

"So what are you talking about?"

"She's silent again."

Savitar frowned.

"She never talks much in the first place."

"Maybe to you. She'd talk, very little admittedly, but she'd at least have a conversation with me or Bride. Now she barely leaves her room and only eats when Bride guilts her into it."

More worry.

"She's too thin already," Savitar muttered.

"Unhealthily so."

"So why won't she eat?"

"The same reason she won't talk, I just don't know what it is. But it started the day after you came."

Savitar gritted his teeth as guilt swept him. He was the cause of this?

"She used to be like this," Vane continued. "When she first came a few months ago. But when she got used to us and put everything behind her…"

His eyes widened.

"You didn't ask her about her past, did you?"

Savitar remained silent, and Vane cursed.

"Damn Sav. You would ask her about the only thing that she's sensitive about."

"If you ask me, she's sensitive about everything."

"You would be too if you're entire species wanted nothing more than to see you dead."

Savitar leaned forward in interest, but Vane seemed to realize his mistake.

"Ask her yourself," he said. "I've already said too much. Her past is none of my business. I only know because Bride coaxed it out of her the first few nights she was here."

"You know I can read your mind, right?"

"And I also know you won't for the same reason you didn't read hers. You want her to tell you on her own terms."

Savitar narrowed his eyes.

"Why did you take her in in the first place?"

"Because I know exactly how she felt when her patria exiled her. And she saved Bride's life. So know that I will defend her as one of my own, even if it's against you."

Instead of blasting Vane through a wall, Savitar merely raised an eyebrow. Killing one of Syri's friends when she already thought him a tyrant wasn't going to get him anywhere with her. He gave Vane a tight-lipped half-smile half-grimace, his version of thanks.

"Go, wolf. You've left me lots to...think about."

Vane nodded and disappeared, leaving Savitar alone with his thoughts.

He sat on his throne for a little while longer, looking at the empty room, before he flashed himself to the beach. He materialized his wetsuit onto his body and his board into his hand. The big wave was long gone, his conversation with Vane had seen to that. But the smaller ones rolling in now were still sizable, and they'd do.

Savitar's mind was a jumbled mess as he paddled out to meet the surf, his board a familiar press against his chest as he fought through the breakers to get farther out into the ocean. It was only when he'd reached the nearest wave and quickly leapt to his feet that he allowed himself to think. Maneuvering through the tumble of water was second nature to him, and it required no thought as he rode the crystal waves.

Instead, his mind wandered back to the tiny woman who never seemed to be far from his thoughts.

_I don't want to care._

He really didn't. He'd give his right leg if it meant going back to the blissfully uncaring state he'd been in up to the moment he'd met her two weeks ago. He wanted to go back to hating the world.

Hating was easy.

It was actually giving a damn that was hard, and when it came to Syriana…

He let out a juicy curse as he lost his concentration and tumbled into the water. So much for second nature. Surfacing, he flashed himself back to the beach and threw his board onto the sand. Drying himself and sliding the top part of his wetsuit off so he could tie the arms around his waist and move freely, he started walking back to the palace that served as his home, agitated enough that he didn't even want to materialize there.

He threw open the heavy gold-inlaid wooden doors that led into the meeting chamber of the Omegrion. It was empty, the round table in the middle of the room, the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the burgundy and gold walls staring silently back at him. With a wave of his hand, the doors behind him closed and the ones on the other end of the chamber opened. No one except him, Acheron, and Simi had ever stepped beyond those doors. Being the hardcore paranoid he was, he'd killed everyone else who had tried. This palace was the only place that had ever been solely his, and he wasn't going to give that up for anything. There were things here no one else knew, rooms that hadn't been entered by anyone but him since they'd been created.

His family was his and his alone to mourn. No one would ever see the shrines he'd erected for them.

Gritting his teeth, he forced thoughts of Savita and Savitri from his mind. Memories of Kyra he pushed farthest away. His siblings and his niece had no place in his thoughts. Not now. Not when they'd been murdered over seventeen thousand years ago. Not when he could still hear their dying screams in his head every time he remembered how he'd failed to save them.

Not when he could still feel the pain.

Growling in frustration, he sent a god-bolt into the nearest object, effectively incinerating the chair into a pile of ashes. Paris was going to have to find a new seat the next time the Omegrion converged. Still consumed with the past, Savitar stormed through the golden halls of the palace, nearly taking his bedroom door off its hinges. They slammed shut behind him.

"Get out of my head," he snarled into the air as his family's faces played across his vision.

"_Do you have a family?" she asked._

"_No."_

"_No one you care for?"_

"_No."_

"_You're lying," she said softly._

Syriana.

Her words from the day before flashed through his mind.

Her quiet, questing voice had drawn automatic answers from him, but somehow she'd seen through them. She had been completely calm and assured as she'd informed him of his lies. She'd seen his pain, and she hadn't mocked him for it. She hadn't criticized his weaknesses. Instead, her eyes had glowed with a sense of understanding and compassion that had reached all the way to his long-dead 'd touched a part of him that no one had since the day he'd held Kyra in his arms as she died.

He wanted to see her again.

It was madness, and he knew it. If he'd had any sense, he would've ran screaming in the other direction the second Acheron had mentioned her. But he was Savitar, and he ran from no one, not to mention the fact that he'd rather kill himself than ever scream. More important than that though, was the way his mind and body seemed to gravitate towards her, no matter how far apart they were.

He didn't know what it was about her that drew him to her. Her subtle beauty had never been lost on him, the lust he felt for her every time he thought her name was proof of that, but it was deeper than that. Odd as it sounded, her scars were what had drawn him in the first time he'd seen her. They were imperfections, or so the rest of the world would think, but to him, they were part of her. Part of her past, though she still refused to share it with him. He still came dangerously close to losing his temper every time he thought of her being hurt, but now he was also able to see the beauty they represented as well. Her scars were testimony to her strength and courage.

He cursed.

What was it about this woman that plagued him so? Why couldn't he get her out of his thoughts when gods knew he'd like nothing more? He wanted to hate her, or at the very least forget her. Whatever Acheron had said, he wasn't quite certain he was ready to meet his destiny. He'd given up on the rest of the world long ago. The pain he'd felt when he'd lost everything had taught him well. He wasn't foolish enough to ever let himself care for anyone ever again.

And yet even as he thought the words, Syriana was there in his mind, her eyes glittering with that damnable warmth that melted his icy heart as she gently corrected his lies. He blanched at the realization.

"By the gods, she _means_ something to me."

* * *

><p>"You really should eat something."<p>

Syri nearly knocked over her untouched bowl of soup, her eyes flying to meet his.

Savitar hid his amusement as he sat down in the chair across from her. After another week of denying his interest in her and fighting the urge to see her, he'd finally given in. So now he sat at the dining room table in Vane's house, in his normal beach attire, watching as she stirred her soup with a spoon. Her amber eyes were both wary and searching as they regarded him.

"You're going to have to stop looking at me like that sweeting," he chided, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I don't think you will."

"So why do you look at me like I'm going to eat you?"

"People lose their temper."

She sounded like she had a lot of experience with that. And almost unconsciously, her hand went to her cheek to touch one of the four claw marks that slashed across her face. Savitar fought down a growl. Acheron's words came back to him, and possessiveness flowed through his body. If Syri ever told him who the bastard was that'd scarred her…

Minus one for the world's population.

"How about if I promise not to lose my temper?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

"I'd believe you until you do."

Her instant, unthinking answer made his lip curve into a half-smile.

"You're incredibly outspoken for someone who doesn't like to talk," he noted.

She clamped her mouth shut, and his smile widened.

"It was just an observation."

She remained silent, and he realized that she seldom spoke, if at all, unless he asked her a direct question.

"I don't think I've ever met someone who enjoys smalltalk less than me," he continued. "Usually, I just blast whoever it is through a wall. Much more productive, don't you think?"

"No."

He tsked, leaning forward.

"One word answers again? We're going to have to work on that little cheetah."

"Why do you call me that?"

He sat back, satisfied that he'd at least gotten her to contribute to the conversation.

"Because you are a little cheetah."

Standing up she wouldn't even reach his chin. She was incredibly delicate looking, and he was agonizingly aware of the fact that one wrong move on his part could injure her permanently. For the first time in his life, he was wary of his strength and the destructive powers he possessed, wary of the damage they could cause. Just the thought of hurting her made him want to wince.

"I'm not a cheetah. I can't shift."

"Well until you explain to me why you're not and why you can't, there's not much I can do about fixing that," he said in a decidedly amused tone.

"No."

"Hmm?"

"Why do you want to know about my past?"

_Because I've been utterly obsessed with you since I saw you. _

"Because I want to know you better."

"Why?"

_Because Acheron told me its our Fate to be together._

"Because you interest me."

"Why?"

He laughed at her suspicion. Even if she wasn't a Were, she certainly possessed the shrewdness and wariness of one.

"Because my sweet, you are the first person I've ever met who isn't afraid to tell me exactly what they think. You speak your mind regardless of the circumstances. It's delightfully refreshing, if not mildly irking. I've never had someone talk back to me before, let alone contradict me," he mused.

She was a fascinating combination of shyness and outspokenness that never ceased to surprise him. How she could look like a nervous child when she looked at him while telling him quite plainly that she'd sized him up and found him wanting baffled him. And the compassion in her eyes when he threw up the walls he'd built around his heart and mind centuries ago burned him every time he saw it.

How could she be so broken yet so giving at the same time?

"You're the first person whose ever looked at me like I'm not a monster," he murmured in a more subdued voice. "And right now, you don't even fear me."

Her aura was calm, relaxed. And though, much to his own surprise, he'd found himself refusing to read her mind again, he could tell that she was more comfortable with him now that she'd ever been. In fact, if he really thought about it, she was more comfortable with him than he could ever remember anyone being. Even Acheron had a healthy dose of respect in his eyes when they were together. But Syri's face held nothing but warmth and fragile gentleness. It called to the feral side of him, the one that even he struggled to control sometimes. It calmed him, soothed him.

For the first time in seventeen thousand years, he felt at peace.

"Do you know how incredible it is that I can sit here like this?" he asked her.

She shook her head, but he saw the questioning look in her eyes. Standing up, he walked around the table to stand behind her, setting his hands on her shoulders. She jumped at the contact. But as he stroked his thumbs gently over the soft skin at the nape of her neck, she calmed. It was another small miracle in his eyes. Men ran from just the sight of him, and they treated his touch like the plague. Women ran too, unless they wanted him for sex, and when that was done, their eyes quickly turned from passion to revulsion. But Syri seemed completely at ease with his touch, sighing contentedly as he massaged the knots out of her tensed muscles.

"I didn't think you could be like this," she murmured, tilting her head back to look at him.

"Believe me, you're no more surprised than I am. But there's something...compelling about you."

She offered him a shy smile, and it was like a sucker punch to the gut.

_She's damned _adorable_ when she does that._

Quickly dismissing that screamingly sappy thought from his head, Savitar traced one finger up the side of her neck. Her pulse was a barely-there flutter as he laid his palm against her throat. He slid slowly upwards until he was cupping her her cheek, brushing his thumb repeatedly over her cheekbone. She sighed contentedly, closing her eyes as she leaned back, resting her head against his stomach.

"Did you know," she started, her voice barely audible. "That I haven't let a man touch me in almost thirty years?"

Savitar jolted like he'd been electrocuted.

Here was a woman who he was positive had been abused, physically for sure, if not sexually, in the past, and who had refused contact with everyone since. Especially men. And now she was letting the deadliest being in existence cradle her to him as he framed her face between his palms. He knew that she was quite literally letting him hold her life in his hands, and the trust that took floored him.

He'd never known faith like that.

"Why?" he breathed.

"There's something good in you. Even if no one else bothers to look for it. Even if you don't bother to look for it."

She opened her eyes, and they glowed with amber fire.

"I fear your touch Savitar," she said softly.

He would've pulled away, something he could only identify as pain stabbing at him, but she stopped him. She placed her hands over his, holding them in hers as she lowered them from her face. Her hands were tiny in his, like a child's. Her alabaster skin blazed against the dusky gold of his. But she didn't seem to notice as she bent her head and examined their twined fingers. He bit his lip. He'd never thought having a woman hold his hand would be anything other than platonic, but there was something incredibly intimate about this. Her touch was pure pleasure as she traced patterns on his palms. And though his desire for her was ever present in his mind, there was nothing sexual about this. Just having her trust him like this was enough.

"You have bewitched me," he murmured. "I forsook humanity and the rest of the world long ago. And yet being here with you makes me feel more alive than I've ever been."

"And you have bewitched me," she answered so quietly he could've imagined her voice. "I was not lying when I said I fear your touch. The part of me that lives in the past is screaming for release from the pain the memories bring, and I doubt I will ever be able to look at a man without fear. But something about you…. My mind tells me to run."

She kissed his palm, and his breathing hitched.

"But my heart tells me to stay."

"Acheron was right."

His voice was ragged, even to his own ears. He couldn't believe the ease with which she'd broken down his defenses. She couldn't even see his face, but right now, he felt more exposed than he ever had. How could mere words affect him like this? How could they soothe him so completely? Her trust was the most precious thing he'd ever possessed, and he knew without a doubt that Acheron's prophecy had been true. He didn't know what he felt for Syri yet, didn't even know if he _wanted _to know. But regardless, he was certain he wouldn't let her go. He couldn't.

"You are mine," he whispered.

At his silent command, her chair turned around so she was facing him, and he dropped to his knees in front of her. It was against his every nature to kneel in front of someone, but Syri was different. He knew she wouldn't judge him for the weakness it showed, and that more than anything drove him to frame her face between his palms as he searched her eyes with his. They were roughly the same height now, and her gaze held him captive.

"What have you done to me?" he demanded, his voice so soft he wasn't sure whether he was talking to her or himself. "Why do I find the ability to _feel_ when I'm with you? Why does the hate in me disappear when you look at me?"

She said nothing, but she answered him anyway. The gentle compassion in her expression as she spoke to him with her eyes was enough.

_It's because she sees you. Not the front that you put up. Not the lie that everyone else believes. She sees _you_, and she doesn't mock your pain._

No, the only thing he saw when he looked at her was understanding. She'd been broken too. It amazed him that two people that had been dealt the most vicious lives possible by the Fates could stand to continue living, let alone open up to each other, but the proof was right in front of him. It was obvious in the way he found himself finding solace in the simple fact that she let him hold her. In the way the sadness he could feel in her faded the longer he was with her.

In the way his heart clenched when he leaned forward and captured her lips with his.

He was gentle this time, restraining the passion he'd so foolishly released on her that time in the forest. Still, she stiffened. Easing back, he pulled away until there was only the briefest contact of their lips, whisper soft touches that were barely there. He'd never bothered to control himself before when he was with a woman, yet the shattering fragility that he held as he stroked his hands down her sides was achingly clear. He let his hands fall to the chair, gripping it tightly so that the only thing connecting them was the butterfly kisses be brushed over her lips.

Ever so slowly, she relaxed. She returned his kiss hesitantly, her movements unschooled and unrefined, but all the more endearing and appealing because of it. Reluctantly, he pulled away from her.

"You've never been kissed before, have you," he asked gently.

She shook her head.

"I wasn't considered a worthy mate by my kind before. I still am not."

The pain in her voice called out to him, and it was with unprecedented tenderness that he brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead.

"They were fools," he murmured against her skin. "If they couldn't see how perfect you are, then they didn't deserve you."

His breath caught in his throat.

"_I_ don't deserve you," he whispered.

He rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.

"But gods know that I still want you."


	4. Scarred

**Her first instinct was to run.**

**Every rational thought in her head screamed at her to push him away, to avert her face, to do anything. But she couldn't. His lips were soft as silk against hers as he kissed her so lightly she could've been imagining it. And he was so gentle that she **_**had**_** to be imagining it. But the man who knelt in front of her was real, there was no doubt about it.**

**His steely arms were braced on the chair on either side of her, his skin a pleasant warmth against hers as she laid her palms against him. Power radiated from his body, creating an almost tangible aura around him that was like a caress as it reached out to her, protective and comforting. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a man like Savitar could make her feel safe, that he could be this tender. And from the look of quiet bemusement in his eyes every time she met them with her own, she could tell that neither had he. There was something beyond the realm of mortals that had touched both of them, she just wasn't sure what. But whatever it was, it drove her to push aside her fear and pull him closer.**

**She placed her arms around his neck, tugging his lips more firmly against hers. She heard his sharp intake of breath, felt him hesitate before he let her. Ever so carefully, he deepened their kiss, coaxing her lips apart with his. Syri sighed. This man's mouth was pure decadence, his tongue a sinful pleasure as it explored her mouth with sensual licks. He was the first person she'd ever kissed, but she doubted she'd ever find anyone who could make her feel like he did. **

"**Why do I feel safe with you?" she breathed, opening her eyes to find glowing lavender staring back at her. **

"**Because I would do anything to take away your pain," he murmured. "And I would never push you for more than you will willingly give me."**

**The way he said that made it sound like…**

"**Will you be around for long?"**

**Syri hated the insecurity in her voice, hated that she'd let herself be so vulnerable. Since the day she'd made the mistake of putting her trust in strangers, the day she'd woken up to find herself scarred and her virginity stolen by force, she'd let no one get close to her. Bride, and through her, Vane, had been the only people in twenty-seven years she'd ever allowed near her.**

**Until Savitar.**

**She searched his face for an answer, for something that would tell her he'd stay. She'd been unwanted and abandoned for so long, that she'd forgotten what it was like to feel like she mattered to someone. And unlike the rest of her species, she didn't have the magic that she had so desperately needed in her past. She was truly alone in the world. But Savitar broke through her tortured thoughts, his hand touching her jaw lightly to tilt her gaze to his.**

"**Whatever this is that draws me to you," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever it is about you that makes me feel for the first time in seventeen thousand years...I swear to you now that I will not leave you."**

**He touched his lips to hers to seal his promise.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>You call this <strong>_**fun**_**?"**

**Savitar shot her an incredulous look from where he was lounging against the trunk of an oak. She waved a hand for him to be quiet. Sighing, he detached himself from the tree to flash next to her, effectively scaring her deer away and ruining her shot. She turned a glare on him.**

"**Go away," she frowned. "I'm busy."**

**It amazed her how comfortable she was with him now. If it had been anyone else, she'd have stayed silent, secretly wanting them gone. But with Savitar, she was perfectly fine with telling him to leave, even if she didn't really mean it. She could **_**talk**_** to him, have conversations. It intrigued her as much as it amazed her. **

"**Can you at least do something entertaining if I'm here?"**

"**You were the one who wanted to tag along."**

**Much to her delight, though she'd take that to the grave. There was something about Savitar's presence that was incredibly soothing, that put her fears at ease. It didn't slip her mind that he was one of the most powerful and deadly beings to ever exist, at least according to what Vane had told her. But the way he looked at her, with his deep lavender eyes flickering with a warmth she doubted anyone else saw, made her certain that he wasn't as ruthless as the reputation that proceeded him. **

"**I didn't think we were going to go tramping through the forest," he countered. "I was thinking somewhere...wetter."**

**She took in his once again mismatched board shorts and hawaiian shirt, equal in brightness only to the tattoos that flowed over his body. She cocked her head to the side. **

"**The ocean?"**

"**Preferably."**

"**I've only been there once or twice. Klarys took me."**

**She winced at the mention of the man who had raised her until she'd hit puberty, until he'd died at the hands of her mother. When her Patria had discovered that she couldn't shift, she'd become a shame to them all. Her lack of magic had been noted previously, and she'd been disowned for it, but it'd also been assumed that her powers had simply been completely restrained until puberty. Arcadians didn't gain their magic until then, but most showed signs of it as soon as they were born. Those who knew her had decided that she was simply a "late bloomer" as Klarys had so eloquently put in.**

**They'd been disastrously and horrifyingly wrong.**

**The part of her connected to her magic, the part of her that allowed her to shift, had never been open to her access. And once that had been discovered, she'd been deemed a freak not only by other cheetahs, but by all Arcadians and even Katagaria who had heard of her. She hadn't been exiled, but gods, some days she wished she had been. If that had happened, her mother wouldn't have been able to hunt her down. Klarys wouldn't have died. She wouldn't have been raped.**

**But the Fates had spoken, and she was resigned to the life they'd allotted her.**

**Or at least she had been, until she'd met Savitar. There was something about him that made her want more than what she had. When she was with him, she could almost pretend she was normal, that she was wanted. And however wrong it was, she wanted him. **

**She knew how far out of her reach he was. She was a scarred shifter who was cursed to live the lifespan of a Were within the body of a mortal, and she'd been scorned for it since she could remember. And Savitar was...Savitar. Leader of the Omegrion, equal in power to the Final Fate, and one of the last Chthonians in existence. There was no doubt in her mind that when he'd sworn to never leave her, he'd meant it then. But people changed their minds, and the only thing she wondered now was why he hadn't yet changed his. **

**He frowned as if he'd read her thoughts.**

"**What are you thinking about?" he asked, brushing a wayward strand of her hair back into place.**

"**You can't tell?"**

"**I won't read your mind unless I have to. Your spontaneity is one of the few things I enjoy in life, and I won't give it up easily. I do have to admit that it's mildly annoying constantly having to make sure my mind doesn't touch yours, but it's worth it."**

**He smiled slightly, and the expression cut right to her heart.**

**She knew for a fact that Savitar never showed this side of him to anyone else. The man Vane had described had been arrogant, detached, and emotionless in ways that chilled her blood. But the man in front of her was warm, feeling, and if she could convince herself of it, caring. And the way he spoke to her showed her just how much effort he was putting into not scaring her, into trying to make her forget her past.**

**And that endeared him to her like nothing and no one had before.**

"**You're doing it again," he said, touching her temple. "Looking at me with that unfathomable expression."**

"**I was just thinking that I can't understand why you're here."**

"**You don't want me to be?"**

**She didn't miss the pain in his voice.**

"**No, I do, and that's what confuses me. I want you."**

**She'd never been so outspoken in her life, but she couldn't lie. She'd never been able to, despite her best attempts. Klarys had teased her mercilessly about it, having caught her with her hand in the cookie jar, literally, more than a few times. Gods, she missed that man more than she could say. He and Savitar were the only people she'd ever been able to stand extended contact with.**

"**I've never really noticed a man's body before," she mused, touching his stomach lightly. "It shocks me that I do with you."**

**She rested her palm just over his heart, the slow, steady beating a comforting rhythm under her hand. His chest was muscled steel, and it sent a foreign thrill through her body that was both confusing and pleasant. **

"**Do you like what you see, my sweet?"**

**His voice was deep velvet that slid around her and raised chills on her skin. He caught her hands in his and pressed them both flat against him, her right on his heart, her left on his stomach. His eyes as they met hers smoldered, turning a deep violet that left her breathless. She'd never felt anything like the warmth that was spreading through her right now. He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand as he waited for her answer.**

"**Yes," she breathed. **

**His lips twisted into the most rakishly satisfied grin she'd ever seen.**

"**Feel free to explore," he whispered, bending to brush his lips over her ear.**

**She shivered at the obvious intent in his voice, yet part of her was incredibly curious. He let go of her, letting his arms fall to his sides. Hesitantly, she traced the contours of his chest, delighting in the way it felt like warm, living steel. His stomach was just as defined, and she took her time running her fingers over each dip and curve. She followed the trail of ebony that ran from his navel to disappear beneath the edge of his shorts before he caught her wrist.**

"**Careful," he murmured. "A man only has so much control."**

**She froze.**

**Unbidden, images of Tristan flashed through her mind. Her own cousin had been the one to-. No, she wouldn't let her thoughts go to him. What he'd done was in the past, and she'd forced herself to forget him long ago. The man in front of her was nothing like him, and she wouldn't allow herself to confuse the two. **

"**Sorry," she apologized, trying to withdraw her hand, surprised he wouldn't let her.**

"**There's nothing to be sorry about. I just don't trust myself to not kiss you if you keep that up."**

**She was shocked by his honesty, but even more so by her impulsiveness as she reached up and pulled his lips to hers.**

**He was immobile for a minute, seemingly as astounded by her boldness as she was, but it wasn't long before his arms found their way around her waist, his hands both protective and possessive on her hips and back. She jumped at the sudden fierceness of his kiss as he explored her mouth with an expertise that left her weak-kneed. But she shoved aside the instincts that told her to run and found herself relaxing into his embrace.**

"**That's it my sweet," he said in a low, seductive voice. "Trust me."**

**His lips were gentle against hers now. The passion that flared between them was just as intense, but he was more controlled, like he was waiting for her. She sensed that he was holding himself back. But good lord, this man knew how to kiss. She felt herself melting, helpless to do anything except bury her hands in his hair and tug him closer. **

**Savitar gave a small moan of approval, his tongue tangling with hers. He traced the contours of her spine with the tips of his fingers, the slightly ticklish sensation sending shivers all over her body. And when he slipped his hand under her shirt to repeat the action, she gasped at the incredible feeling of his warm skin against hers. She felt him smile against her lips. But when his fingers touched the third and final set of claw marks on her body, the one that ran from just below the nape of her neck to her right hip, he froze. **

"**Savitar?"**

**He said nothing as he pulled back from her, stroking her jaw as he searched her eyes. The intensity in his gaze burned, his now deep-violet eyes darkening for reasons other than passion. Slowly, he turned her around and set both her hands on the tree next to them. He lifted the hem of her shirt. She felt his anger as he pushed it up her back, revealing the scars Tristan had so uncaringly left when he'd attacked her. **

**His touch was feather light as he brushed his fingers across the marks, but she felt the power in it nonetheless. And the longer he spent tracing her back, the more volatile she could sense him getting.**

"**Who did this to you?" he finally asked, voice hard and unwavering.**

**She pressed her lips together.**

"**I'm not angry with you," he soothed, dropping a kiss in the back of her neck. "I just want to know who it is I have to kill."**

**He was serious. She could hear the deadly intent in his voice, the flat assurance that as soon as he found out Tristan's name, the cheetah was a dead cat that certainly didn't have eight extra lives to resurrect him. But strangely, Syri couldn't quite force herself to condemn the man to what she was sure would be a slow and painful death.**

**Seeming to sense her hesitation, Savitar heaved a loud sigh.**

"**You're not going to tell me yet, are you," he said, voice a statement not a question.**

"**Yet?"**

**She felt him smile slightly from where he was kissing her neck.**

"**You will tell me eventually," he said, voice a silky promise that showed he had every intention of getting Tristan's name out of her, one way or another. **

**She shivered in what she could only call anticipation.**

"**But I also won't push you now," he continued. "Just know that I won't stand to see my woman hurt without there being consequences that will make Tartarus look like a walk in the park."**

"'**My woman'?"**

**He stroked his hand down her spine, and she arched into his warm touch. It was a pleasant contrast to the cool evening air, and she felt a very feline purr of satisfaction working its way up her throat. **

"**Yes, little cheetah. My woman."**

**She should've balked at the possessive, and with any other man, she would've. As battered as her pride and and dignity was, she still had enough of it to have a healthy dose of self-possession. Not to mention, since her attack, she'd been more paranoid than most about keeping herself to herself and making sure everyone else kept themselves to themselves. But the way Savitar said it, it was more of a gentle caress meant to calm her than anything else.**

**And damn if it didn't work wonders on her nerves. **

"**You're doing it again," she told him, turning to face him as he let her shirt slide back down into place. **

"**Hmm?"**

"**Making me feel...safe."**

**She shrugged, not sure what else to say. **

"**I don't know what it is with you. But when you're around, I feel like I don't have to hide anymore."**

"**You don't."**

**He stepped closer to her, if that was possible. His arms formed a cage around her as he braced his hands on the tree on either side of her head. His voice was a low rumble as he spoke.**

"**Have to hide," he finished in a murmur. "You have never judged me for my weaknesses, and I will never judge you for a past you couldn't control."**

**She eyed him skeptically.**

"**Weaknesses?"**

**The man could've had his picture in the dictionary next to the word "invincible". He was a wall of solid muscle and power in front of her, his lean body speaking of only speed and agility. There was a practiced discipline around him, and the wisdom in his eyes was deep and boundless. If he had any weaknesses, which she seriously doubted, he hid them well.**

"**Yes my sweet. I have them like everyone else."**

**He kissed her forehead.**

"**Mine just so happens to be a mortal woman."**

**Syri caught her breath. She was pretty sure her heart stopped beating too. His lavender gaze as he looked down at her glowed with sincerity and what she could only term as affection. Gods, how she longed to believe him. Her entire life, she'd never wanted anything more than to be loved and accepted, and looking at Savitar now, she could almost believe she was. **

"**You don't mean that," she said shakily.**

"**Oh, but I do."**

**He removed one hand from the tree to touch her neck, sliding it upward until he tilted up her jaw. His face was impossibly intense, the handsome lines as harsh as his unwavering tone. Part of her knew that he was just as unnerved as she was by this seemingly uncontrollable draw between the two of them, yet she couldn't quite bring herself to care as his lips descended on hers. He tasted like feral exoticness, and she clutched at his shoulders to pull him closer.**

**His kiss was raw and earthy, needing, and yet strangely, there was no fear in her this time. All she could think about was the incredible pleasure that his touch brought her. When he pulled back, she wanted to cry out at the loss.**

"**I can't fathom why I feel like this," he said, looking torn. "I have lived the last seventeen thousand years wanting nothing more to do with the world. I know it would be nothing short of foolishness to change my mind now."**

"**I'm sorry for your family," she answered softly.**

**He looked like she'd slapped him.**

"**What?"**

**It hadn't taken her long to piece together his past. The way he'd snapped an instant and heated "no" to her question about his family had been her first hint. His almost masochistic need to keep himself removed from everyone had been her second. Lastly had been the way his eyes went dark and brooding at any mention of the past. She knew from experience what losing those you loved felt like. The grief that had brought her to her knees when she'd discovered Klarys's body stayed with her to this day. Seeing that pain mirrored in Savitar had banished any doubt of hers that he'd lost everyone he held dear.**

"**I know your grief," she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. "And I'm sorry you had to bear it alone. If I could, I'd take it all away from you."**

**And she would. No one deserved to know what it felt like to hold the only person you loved in your arms, knowing they were gone forever. Certainly not the man who'd shown her nothing but kindness and taught her what it was to trust someone again.**

"**I wish I could bring them back for you," she finished quietly.**

**If he'd looked like she'd slapped him before, he was looking at her like she'd shot a god-bolt at him now.**

"**Savitar?" she asked, worried.**

**He shook his head mutely.**

**His expression was almost wondering as he traced the outline of her cheek with the tips of his fingers. He didn't seem to be breathing as he continued his exploration, trailing across her nose, her lips, her jaw. His palm came to rest on her heart.**

"**What are you doing?" she asked in a slightly uneven voice.**

"**Making sure you're real," he breathed back. "Making sure I'm not imagining you."**

**His other hand reached for hers, lacing their fingers together. **

"**Do you know what you do to me?" he asked in a low, tortured voice as he closed his eyes. "Do you know what you make me feel?"**

**She bit her lip.**

"**No," she answered back honestly. **

**He hid his emotions well. Even she had a hard time deciphering them sometimes. What little she'd seen made it clear that he didn't like feeling, that he was as numb as she wished she could be. But when he opened his eyes to meet hers, she gasped. His lavender irises glowed with something she didn't quite understand, but for the first time, he'd opened himself to her. She could read every emotion as it flashed across his gaze.**

**Pain. Loss. Anguish.**

**It was so raw and devastating in its magnitude that it made her heart cry out for him. **

**Anger. Vengeance. Rage.**

**The depth of his hate for those that had stolen his family burned her where she stood. **

**Remorse. Hope. Vulnerability.**

**This last flash of emotion made her long to hold him in her arms and never let go. She had no doubt she was the first to ever see these things in him, and she was sure she would also be the last. The fact that he trusted her like this made her silently vow that she would do whatever it took to take away his pain. It took a strong man to admit how breakable his past had left him, and a truly courageous one to show that to others. **

_**So this is what he meant by weakness.**_

**But she didn't see his admittance as that. She saw it as a confirmation of the draw that bound them to each other irrevocably and irreversibly. She knew now what he'd always kept so carefully hidden when they were together, and she adored him for it. She knew with experience-proved certainty what it took to open up to someone else, and the bravery he showed in doing it proved him everything **_**except **_**weak. Setting her own hand over his heart, she told him as much.**

"**Your past isn't your fault," she whispered. "The cruelty of others and its effects are theirs and theirs alone to bear."**

**She smiled slightly.**

"**It doesn't always feel that way, does it."**

**Her mind flashed to the years she'd spent alone, praying that she could turn back time to before Klarys had died.**

"**It's taken me nearly thirty years to realize that what happened was beyond my control," she continued. "It wasn't until I met you that I found the courage to understand that nothing I could've done would have changed what happened. I haven't come to terms with what happened, I probably never will, but now I can look back at it and not wish I'd died with him. The Fates had other plans for me, and now I think I know what they are."**

**She tiptoed and kissed him fleetingly.**

"**This is why I was spared that day," she whispered. "Because the Fates knew we needed each other."**

**He froze for a second.**

"**I have never needed anyone," he said in a low voice.**

**She winced away from him. Gods, how could she have been so stupid? She **_**knew**_** who this man was, knew how unreachable for her he was. She'd **_**felt**_** the pain that foolishly trusting someone could cause. And yet she'd allowed Savitar to steal her heart. How could she have been so naive? How could she-**

"**Except you."**

**She didn't dare believe her hearing.**

"**What?"**

"**Ángelos," he answered, smiling so sweetly it melted her. "Do you not understand how much I need the compassion you show me?"**

**He kissed her tenderly, and it shook her more than his passion-hungry ravishment had before.**

"**I am at peace with you," he said softly. **

**He pressed her hand closer to his heart, its slow, steady beating a testament to his words. **

"**And for that, you are more precious to me than I will ever be able to tell you."**

* * *

><p>"<strong>Who are you?"<strong>

**Syri sat up cautiously, completely awake despite the fact that it was well past two in the morning. The man standing across from her had seen to that. Even in height with Savitar, he had tawny skin and black hair just past his shoulders with a red streak running through it. An aura every bit as powerful as Savitar's radiated from him, and his gaze was piercing, even behind his sleek black sunglasses. **

"**I'm Acheron."**

**Syri cocked her head to the side.**

**This was Savitar's mysterious friend? The two of them certainly had the same bearing. But what was he doing in her room unannounced? And at nearly three in the morning?**

"**I just wanted to see you for myself," he answered her unspoken question.**

"**Are you reading my mind?"**

**She'd gotten used to having her thoughts to herself. Savitar had never intruded on her privacy, and she knew it was for her sake that he refrained. **

_**Savitar**_**. **

**She missed him with a physical longing. After they'd left the woods, he'd walked her home and left her with a promise to return the following day. The thrill that had went through her at his words had only confirmed what she already knew: she was completely and probably foolishly enamored with him. But seeing as she as helpless against her feelings for him, she'd simply nodded and watched as he'd disappeared into the night.**

"**No," Acheron answered. "I can just see it in your face."**

**She nodded, accepting that.**

"**Is there anything you need?" she asked. "Is something wrong with Savitar?"**

**Just the thought made her wince.**

"**Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk to you."**

"**About what?"**

"**Savitar."**

**He took a seat on the chair by her desk without asking, resting his elbows on his leather-clad knees. **

"**Do you know what he is?" he asked.**

**She nodded.**

"**He's a god-killer."**

"**And you don't hate him for that?"**

**She stared wide-eyed at him. **

"**Why would I?"**

"**Do you know how many people he's killed?"**

"**Well," she hesitated. "Not exactly. But I don't think he did any of that out of spite."**

"**Are you sure about that?"**

**She looked at him, surprised. Was Acheron trying to tell her that Savitar was evil? It sounded an awful lot like that, but why would he be trying to scare her away from his best friend? It made no sense to her at all, and her defenses were thrown up immediately. The fact that a large, virile male who was most certainly not Savitar, the only man she trusted, was in her room hadn't been lost on her before. But now it made her nervous, wary.**

"**Why are you mad at Savitar?" she demanded. **

**He looked surprised.**

"**I'm not," he said.**

"**So why are you so intent on making me dislike him?"**

"**I'm not," he repeated. "I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into."**

"**What?"**

"**He's using you."**

**Well that couldn't have hurt more if he'd punched her. **

"**What?"**

**Acheron shrugged.**

"**I've seen it happen before. He seems like a nice, albeit scary, guy. He does the whole 'tortured soul' thing, and then gets whoever it is to fall in love with him."**

**He looked sympathetic as he stood and headed for the window he'd obviously come in through.**

"**Sorry. You just seemed like a nice girl, and I don't want anything to happen to you."**

"**What do you-"**

**But he was already gone, the curtains flapping in the wake of his leave.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>I missed you," Savitar murmured, kissing her briefly.<strong>

**She smiled at his admission, though her mind was torn.**

**What if what Acheron had said was true? She didn't believe him, and she didn't want to. She trusted Savitar implicitly. But still, it nagged at her as he held her close, stroking her back and whispering sweetly in her ear. Pulling back, she touched his cheek.**

"**I met Acheron," she started, playing the the ends of his brown-black locks. **

"**You did?"**

**He seemed surprised and just the slightest bit wary. **

"**Mm hmm."**

"**When?"**

"**This morning."**

**He seemed even more suspicious now, his hand pausing its quest up the hem of her shirt.**

"**Where did you see him?"**

"**In my room."**

**He was angry now. She could tell by the tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes flashed a dangerous and dark violet. **

"**What did he want?" he hissed.**

"**He just...wanted to talk. About you. He didn't seem very happy with you. I could be wrong though. It was hard to tell what he was thinking because he wouldn't take his sunglasses off."**

**And just like that, the Savitar's expression turned from furious to horrified.**

"**Sunglasses?"**

"**Yeah, wha-"**

**Syri gasped. She was most definitely not in the living room of Vane's house anymore.**

**The floor beneath her feet was black marble, intricately carved pillars holding up a ceiling made of gold. It was absolutely beautiful. But she hardly had time to admire it, considering that Savitar promptly dragged her down the hallway, threw open a set of twelve-foot gold doors, and pulled her inside. Here, the marble floor was veined black. Monitors lined one wall of the room, flashing some kid's cartoon. Two thrones carved like dragons rested on a dais at the far end of the chamber. Acheron was sitting on one of them, sans the sunglasses. But before she could say anything, suddenly he wasn't.**

**Savitar had flashed across the room, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him into the wall.**


	5. Katoteros

"_Where were you this morning_," Savitar snarled, his hand tightening around Acheron's throat.

He was furious. He could feel it in every cell of his body as he thought about someone else being that close to Syri. But the predominant emotion that was coursing through him right now was fear. And in terrifying amounts. He didn't _think_ it'd been Acheron in her room that morning. That option didn't sit well with him. At. All. But the alternative was even worse, and just the thought of him made him want to kill something. And it was that extra surge of energy that gave him the strength to stay put when Acheron sent a wave of power towards him that would've killed a mortal.

"What are you doing?" he shouted, eyes flashing red, his skin blue.

"_Where. Were. You_."

"Savitar?"

Syri's terrified voice made them both turn to look at her. She was watching them both with an expression that was equally confused and scared, her amber eyes wide. She shivered. Cursing, Savitar remembered how cold Katoteros was, remembered that just because he couldn't feel it didn't mean she couldn't. With a thought, he heated the room to mortal temperatures.

"Syri," he said, wincing as he saw her flinch in fear.

She hadn't looked at him like that since the first time she'd seen him, but he had more pressing matters at the moment.

"Syri, is this the man that was in your room?"

She nodded slowly. Understanding dawned on Acheron's face at the same time that deep-seated panic found its way into Savitar. He, who had perfect control of everything in his life, most especially his emotions, was terrified. Styxx. That was who had been in her room this morning. Sure, he was human, but only an idiot would overlook him.

And Savitar was anything but that.

Releasing Acheron, he flashed across the room to Syri and dragged her into his arms. He didn't care that Acheron and Simi, who had bolted into the room fully ready to barbecue whoever had made her _akri_ shout, were watching. He crushed their lips together with a desperation that was almost tangible. He could've lost her today, and he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. However Styxx had found out about her, and for whatever reason he wanted her...the results didn't bear thinking about. The fact that Acheron's twin held no real animosity for Savitar didn't matter. He'd been near Syri, and that was enough to have Savitar near-crazed with the need to reassure himself that she was safe and in his arms.

He kissed her with an intensity bordering on bruising. He knew he was pushing it with her, knew he was probably scaring her, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Her kiss was ambrosia to him, and he knew he'd never want another like he wanted her. She was the only one who saw the man and not the monster in him, and he adored her for that. But as that thought occurred to him, he jerked away from her in the realization that right now he _was_ acting like a monster. One that had no regards for her feelings.

"I'm so sorry my sweet," he apologized raggedly, pulling back so he could sweep her hair back from her face.

The warmth in her eyes floored him as she simply nodded, even offering him a small smile.

_Dear gods, I don't deserve this woman._

"What's going on?" she asked, voice calm despite the flickering he saw in her eyes.

"I-, he-," he broke off, frustrated.

"I am Acheron."

Ash stepped forward, his skin back to bronze, his eyes once again silver. His black silk foremasta was open, revealing leather pants and the scar that ran from his navel up to the hand-print shaped one on his throat. A precious few knew the origin of those marks, knew that they were the result of Apollo as the god had held him down and ended his human life in what he'd thought was vengeance. The enraged sun god hadn't stopped for explanations, most definitely not to hear that the reason Acheron hadn't saved his sister, Apollo's mistress, and her child was because Artemis had drugged him. The scars that were normally hidden from the rest of the world couldn't be concealed in Katoteros, not even by someone as powerful as Acheron.

"My apologies," Savitar said in a voice harsher than he'd intended.

"It's nothing. I would've done the same," Acheron answered, as forgiving and just as always.

He approached the two of them with slow, measured steps, like he was trying not to scare Syri. Savitar held her closer, tightening his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head as she laid her head on his chest. She watched Acheron with a nearly blank expression in her eyes. Savitar knew her well enough to know that this was her normal reaction to new people, that she retreated into herself on instinct.

"You have nothing to fear from him," he soothed. "_This_ is the real Acheron."

"You mean-"

He felt her shiver as she understood.

"The man this morning, he was an impostor," she said, biting her lip. "I should've known. He didn't sound like Acheron."

Ash looked slightly bemused.

"Didn't sound like me?"

Syri turned her gaze to him, and Savitar was impressed that she met his swirling silver gaze without flinching. Then again, her reaction to him hadn't been what he'd expected either. Her strength never failed to amaze him.

"He was distant. Almost cold," she answered, eyes observing him with her normal intuitiveness. "I didn't think a friend of Savitar's would be like that. He wouldn't have the patience for someone like that. And I guess I was right, because you're nothing like that other man was. You look the same, but you're...kinder. And sadder."

Her eyes glowed with her normal warmth and understanding, the compassion in them rooting Ash to the spot.

"I'm sorry," she continued, the sincerity in her voice equaled only by the real regret in it. "For whatever happened to you."

She didn't seem to notice she'd stunned them both to silence.

Savitar had never heard her say so much as two words to people she didn't know since he'd met her. And according to Vane, he could count the number of conversations he'd had with her on half of his hand. Yet she was talking with Acheron now the same way she talked to him, openly and without a trace of fear in her voice. He knew with certainty that the reason she'd accepted Ash so easily was because she knew they were friends.

_Trust like that…_

He shook his head in silent wonder at her faith in him. Glancing at Acheron, he knew that he wasn't faring any better. Ash looked truly shocked, something that rarely happened. His past held demons that equaled Savitar's, and as far as Savitar knew, no one had ever bothered to care about them. And here was a stranger who he'd just met who had picked him apart in one quick glance and was genuinely sorry for him.

Ash looked just short of hemorrhaging.

"Ash," Savitar said into the silence. "This is Syriana Katapardos. Syri, this is Acheron Parthenopaeus."

"It's nice to finally meet you," Syri smiled.

That seemed to snap Ash out of his daze, and he smiled back.

"And it's nice to finally meet you, Syri."

"The Simi wants to meet the _akribos_."

Simi flew across the room to hover directly in front of Savitar and Syri, her now-iridescent blue eyes sparkling the same color as her horns. Her wings were the same color as her skin was in her natural state, red marbled with black. Her tail flicked restlessly behind her. Savitar felt more than heard Syri's gasp of surprise, and on instinct, he whirled her away from the Charonte.

"Savitar, what...what is that?"

She sounded one step short of hysteria, and Savitar flinched. He'd given her too much to handle in one day. He'd always been careful about disguising just how much power he had from her, but grabbing her and flashing her to the the once-throne room of Atlantis had pretty much nullified all of that. Not to mention acting like a lunatic in front of her by grabbing Acheron and using his head to dent the wall. And to top it all off, Simi, who looked like a winged demon barbie, was now babbling her excitement as she flew around the chamber.

"She's pretty _akri._ Can I have one too? I need my plastic, but Lexie locked them up again. Pooh, he no fun."

Acheron looked greatly amused as his demon flitted here and there, waving his hand indulgently to make her box of credit cards appear.

"You can go shopping Sim, but you can't buy a person."

"Not even Travis Flimmel?"

"Not even him."

"You no fun either."

Simi ignored the box containing more credit cards that most people saw in a lifetime and floated closer to Syri, her wings beating languidly to keep her body aloft. Right now, she appeared to be a human woman around the age of twenty, but with her now-amber eyes, which she'd changed to match Syri's exactly, it was obvious she was anything but.

"I'm the Simi," she said without preamble.

She pointed at Acheron.

"He my _akri_. I love my _akri_. If you make him cry, I barbecue then eat you, okay?"

She pointed at Savitar.

"He not my _akri_. Well, the Simi don't have to listen to him. But she love him anyway. He takes me surfing and lets me barbecue things _akri_ says no to, but that not important. If you make him cry too, then the Simi going to barbecue you twice and then eat you. Okay?"

Savitar groaned. This wasn't helping anything.

"Sim, calm down, okay?" he said. "She needs time to adjust to all of this."

"Why? It's not like I'm a monster or anything. Demons not monsters."

She tilted her head to the side as she observed Syri.

"She need hornays. Give her hornays _akri_."

Still incredibly amused, Acheron shook his head.

"She doesn't need horns Sim. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't want them."

"Why? You didn't give baby Marissa any either. You sure don't like other people having hornays."

She floated over to Acheron and shrank in size to the size of a human no bigger than a baby. She sat on his shoulder.

"Savitar?"

Syri's voice made his gaze fly down to her. She sounded calm now, and that worried him more than the near-hysteria had. She removed herself from her arms, retreating a few steps back from all of them. Her beautiful face was strained, paler than normal. She pressed her lips together in a thin line.

"I trust you," she said. "With everything. But if you don't tell me what's going on, I swear I will never speak to you again."

Simi jumped in before he could say anything.

"Don't worry. Savitar not let anything happen to you. Simi not let him. And he always listens to Simi."

She seemed incredibly pleased with the fact that she was the one person whose every whim he indulged. Even Acheron, his only friend, he said no to sometimes when it went against his morals, as poorly formed and barely-there as they were. But Savitar had always had an affinity for demons, and Simi was simply impossible not to love. He knew for a fact that he'd never said no when she asked him for something.

"That man," Simi continued, the hushed dislike in her voice making it was obvious she was talking about Styxx, "is bad news. He _akri's_ twin. He's bad. Human."

She wrinkled her nose.

"Don't get me wrong. The Simi likes humans. Baby Marissa for example, even though she can't belch fire yet. But Styxx a human that Simi wants to barbecue. She can't though, because then _akri_ would die, and then the Simi would have to barbecue the world."

Savitar wanted to cringe at the stricken expression on Syri's face. But completely unaware of the effect she was having, Simi plowed on.

"Styxx is evil. He look like _akri_, but his eyes not the same. If you ever see him-"

She paused to point imperiously at Ash.

"-again, then make him take off the sunglasses. If he no do it, it not my _akri_."

Extremely satisfied with her explaining of the situation, she jumped off Ash's shoulder, returned to "normal" size, and floated to the corner to watch QVC.

"Gods," Savitar half moaned. "That was not how this conversation was supposed to go."

Still smiling affectionately at his demon's handiwork, Ash turned to Syri.

"She's right. The man in your room this morning was Styxx. If you ever see me again, ask to see my eyes. If they're not swirling silver, it's not me."

"What does he want with me?"

Acheron grimaced.

"I'm not sure. If you were with me, I'd understand it. He hates me with a passion Hades would be proud of. But since you're not…"

He shrugged.

"I can only assume he was trying to hurt me through Sav. It's the only thing that makes sense."

Savitar saw red.

"Tell your brother to back the fuck off," he snarled. "If he so much as looks at her again, I'm going to show him torture that makes Tartarus seem like fairy land."

Syri seemed mildly annoyed with his crudeness, but Acheron simply nodded.

"I'm sure he already has the message loud and clear. But just to be sure, I wouldn't let her go home anytime soon."

"What?"

Syri's eyes narrowed.

"Quite frankly, I don't understand what's going on yet. And I won't be dragged around and told what to do like I'm stupid. I've been tossed around my entire life, and I refuse to be now."

Acheron nodded in sympathy, his eyes briefly tracing the scars on her face and arm.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I know it's a lot to take in. Sav will explain it to you later."

He swung his gaze to Savitar.

"I'd take her home with me. Lay low for a while. I'll find out what I can."

Extremely irked about taking orders from someone, even Ash, but unable to find anything really worth arguing about, Savitar nodded. He took two long strides to Syri to cover the distance between them, and took her hand in his.

"Would you mind coming home with me?" he asked. "It's safer for you that way. I'd camp out at Vane's, but quite frankly, I don't really want to."

He noted with satisfaction that his unabashed dislike and vague attempt at humor had worked. She relented and nodded. With a last look at Ash and Simi, Savitar flashed the two of the them the Omegrion chamber on Neratiti.

* * *

><p>Syri watched him with an unfathomable expression, picking absently at the loose thread on her jeans.<p>

"Is that all of it?" she asked calmly.

"It's all I know."

She nodded, accepting that. But he noticed she also started fingering the scars on her arm, something she only did when she was worried. Frowning, he moved across the library to her. When he'd brought her to the massive chamber that contained books and artifacts he'd collected over the millennia, she'd very strategically chosen an armchair that left no room for him to sit next to her. He'd respected that. But now, with the anger fading from her eyes, and something more akin to nervousness replacing it, he needed to be near her.

"I'm sorry little cheetah," he said quietly, perching on the armrest of the chair.

He was surprised when she leaned her head against his leg and didn't object when he started playing with her hair. He undid her braid, letting the auburn waves that reached her waist play through his fingers as he considered what to say next.

"Are you angry with me?" he finally asked.

"No."

The answer was immediate, assured.

"More...hurt."

Savitar flinched. That was a million times worse than if she had been mad at him.

"I don't know why you didn't tell me what you were before," she continued. "I wouldn't have hated you for it. And I really don't like being dragged to strange places to meet strange people."

She didn't have to explain that last part to him. He knew how long it'd taken for her to get used to him, knew that though she'd instantly counted Acheron as a friend, she was far from recovered from the wariness her past had left her with. Regret flooded him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "If I could make up for it-"

"Tell me about your past."

He froze. That was the last thing he'd been expecting.

"What?"

"Tell me about your family, what happened. Styxx didn't say much, but he made me realize just how little I really know about you."

He hesitated. He wanted to tell her about her past. He'd never revealed it to anyone else, and there was no one he'd rather share it with than her. But still…. He still hated himself sometimes for what he'd done, what he'd allowed to happen. If he'd kept his damnable temper under control, if he'd heeded paid more attention...they would still be alive now. He'd been too weak to save them, and they'd all died. Syri, as kind as she was, would be horrified when he told her, and he couldn't stand the thought of her looking at him like he was a monster.

"I-" he broke off. "I...can't."

"Why not?"

She took one of his hands and started toying with his fingers, her skin pleasantly cool and instantly soothing against his.

"I, it's complicated."

"No, it's something else."

How could she read him so easily without even looking at him?"

"Syri-"

"Please Savitar? I promise I'll hear you out, and I promise I won't think any different of you after. I just want to know what it is that haunts you all the time, that occupies part of you even when we're together."

"What if you hate me after?"

He despised himself for the weakness in that plea, but he couldn't help it. The thought of Syri running from him as she discovered what a depraved bastard he really was tortured him. He couldn't let her go, and he wouldn't. He couldn't tell her.

"Please?"

Her voice crumbled his resistance. Sweet and pleading, it melted his will.

"I-"

He touched her cheek lightly.

"I will tell you," he finally said. "I just hope you can see me as you do now after I'd done."

He took a deep, calming breath before starting.

"I was born in Eritara, when I don't remember. But I am older than some of the titans, and the Olympians are like children to me. I was born knowing what I was, that I was created to keep the gods in line. The Pantheon didn't matter, they were all under us to control."

"Us?"

"I was not born alone. I was one of three. Triplets. My sister was Savita, my brother Savitri."

He cringed at the reminder of them.

"We 'ruled', I guess you could say, presiding over any number of gods. Greek, Syrian, Roman-it made little difference to us. The only people we needed were each other."

"You loved them."

"Yes," he answered softy. "I did. More than anything. They have been gone seventeen thousand years, and I still miss them every minute of every day."

She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his palm.

"But I was young then, foolish," he continued. "I let my temper get the best of me sometimes. I killed quite a few gods and goddesses out of anger rather than justness. My brother was much the same, quick to anger and quick to regret what we'd done in rashness. My sister was much calmer. She fell in love with one of the gods, Dolus, the Greek god of deception and guile."

His jaw tightened as he said the name of the only man he'd ever truly hated.

"He was supposed to die. One of our own had perished because of him, but it was love at first sight for Savita. She spared him, and against my better judgement, I let her. If I'd only stopped her, killed that bastard where he groveled at her feet…they would be alive today. They would all be."

It was only the gentle pressure of her fingers on his that let him continue. Even then, his voice was a flat monotone, flat and lifeless as he stroked her hair and recounted his story.

"My sister bore his child, a daughter. Her name was Kyra."

And gods, what a gorgeous baby she'd been. Her life and vitality had flowed off her in waves, and it was impossible not to love her the moment you saw her. She'd been the center of his world, something he cherished more than anything.

She'd barely been two when Hades had taken her.

"Dolus killed them all," he said, his gut knotting at the memory. "And I wasn't there to save them. My sister had been completely enamored with her husband. There wasn't anything she wouldn't have done for him, nothing she would deny him. He was a sick, depraved leech who used her only as a shield from the other Chthonians, and she refused to see it. I'd tell her time and time again, and still she'd tell me I was having another one of my 'fits'. The day she died, I'd gone to her palace. Chthonians have no need of temples, we don't need the praises of humans to fuel our powers. But while I was there, I heard Dolus planning her death. I told her and, and-...and she wouldn't believe me."

He laughed humorlessly.

"She threw me out. Said I was jealous of her life. My level headed sister, the one who was the wisest of us all...blinded by foolishness. She told me to never set foot in her home again. And Savitri _took her side_. He said I had to grow up as well."

Pain lacerated his chest.

"I didn't eve bother arguing. My damned temper got the best of me. I stormed out of there with no intentions of ever going back. In my rage, I'd completely forgotten Dolus, and when I finally remembered, it was too late. I returned in time to hear my sister's dying screams. Savitri was already dead."

Tears actually stung his eyes.

"I burst into her bedroom in time to see Dolus flash away, back to the safety of the Greek Pantheon. I couldn't destroy every single and god and goddess of Greece for him. Even Chthonians are ruled by some laws. So all I could do was watch my sister's lifeless body as I held Kyra to my chest as she died. She screamed and cried, and there was nothing I could do to save her. She'd been stabbed by an Atlantean dagger, and those not born of Atlantis can't heal wounds caused by them. Not even me."

He tilted Syri's head so she was looking up at him, her head pillowed on his thigh.

"Do you know what it's like to hold a child in your arms as she dies? To feel that tiny hand clutching yours as pain makes her scream while her blood pours over you? To feel that tiny heartbeat slowly fading into nothingness?"

A single tear escaped down his cheek.

"I destroyed everything," he said stonily. "I burnt her palace to it's foundations. The island she lived on sank to the bottom of the Aegean, much the same as Atlantis. And yet, I couldn't touch Dolus."

"He still lives?"

"Oh, no my sweet. He far from lives."

He knew he sounded deranged, knew he sounded just shy of insanity, but he couldn't stop himself.

"I destroyed every one of his temples. I killed his priests, his worshippers. I killed all of his lovers, mortal and divine. I killed every single one of his children. It all took no more than a few thoughts from me."

"How-"

"When my siblings died, I gained both their powers. The only person in the world who can hope to match me in strength is Acheron, and that is still undecided some days. Even Apollymi does not possess the destructive power I have. And I used it all to destroy everything Dolus held dear."

His lips twisted sadistically.

"He killed himself. Saved me the trouble, though I wanted nothing more than to feel his heart in my hands as I ripped it out of his chest. The bastard rots in Tartarus now. The once mighty god the plaything of Hades."

She was silent now, having turned her face to the side to pick at a loose thread on his shorts. He tensed. Finally back from the crazed madness recounting his past had brought on, Savitar sat stiffly, waiting for her to push him away. Waiting and steeling himself for the rejection he had no doubt was coming.

Nothing could've shocked him more than when she sat up and pulled his lips down to hers.


	6. First Passion

**How could any one man stand so much pain and loss?**

**Her heart ached for him. After all that had happened to him, how did he find it in himself to trust others again? To care about them? The shadows that forever haunted his eyes...she knew what they were now, and they made her want to scream at the injustice of it all. **

"**If I could take away your pain, I would," she whispered.**

**His eyes opened slowly, burning lavender that flashed with the wisdom and burden of what was eternity in her mind. His fist was clenched so tightly in her hand that the tendons were standing out, his nails no doubt cutting into his palm. The tenseness of his body was palpable, the rigidity of his posture second only to the stoniness of his expression. **

"**Why?" he demanded, voice harsh.**

"**Because you didn't deserve any of it."**

**He moved so fast she wasn't sure if he'd walked or flashed the two of them to the window. But with the firelight shining behind them, the glass pane was a mirror that reflected everything perfectly. And what she saw made her gasp.**

**Savitar looked like some sort of pagan god, feral, wild. His hair fell in a shaggy disarray into his blazing eyes. Eyes that were so bright they looked nearly demonic. And even as she watched, they darkened to violet, to navy, to black. The color was soulless and never ending, his pupils indescrenible from his irises. Every muscle in his body was tautly defined with the tension of his body as he caged her in his arms, holding her to his chest.**

"**This is what I am," he said in a voice that was a low growl. "What I will always be. I am a god-killer, and I have never hesitated to deliver death, whether it was warranted or not. I have killed humans, women, children, without the slightest bit of remorse. Do not tell me what I do and do not deserve."**

**She trembled in his arms, real fear coursing through her veins. She'd never seen him like this before. Whenever he was with her he was gentle and caring in ways that never failed to get her to open her battered heart. But right now, he was everything she'd always feared. Ruthless. Uncaring. She had no doubt he'd done the things he said he had.**

**And yet she found the strength, somewhere, to refuse to believe what he told her.**

"**No," she said, working to keep her voice level. "You're not a monster, and you **_**didn't deserve**_** any of that. No matter what you've done, no one deserves to lose their family. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. And everyone you killed, you killed for a reason. Even the woman and children. Tell me, if Dolus hadn't killed your family, would you have harmed any of them?"**

**He shook his head mutely.**

"**Revenge is an ugly thing," she said softly. "I don't think I need to tell you that. But it's also something that we're born with. You might have...went a bit overboard, but I also know that you've regretted it doing ever since."**

"**How-"**

"**Your eyes."**

**He averted his face, but not before she saw the conviction on it.**

"**Savitar-"**

"**Don't," he said harshly. "I don't want to hear your pity. I don't need to hear how weak I am. Especially not from you."**

**She recoiled. This was where his aggression was coming from? Did he honestly think she'd find him weak and contemptible when the gods knew she was a shame to her whole species? She scowled. Damned male pride. But she wouldn't let her temper get out of hand. He'd been nothing but caring and protective of her, and she'd give him no less. Turning in the circle of his arms, she placed her hands on his shoulders, staring calmly back into his furious gaze.**

"**I don't pity you Savitar," she told him quietly, truthfully. "I know you don't want sympathy, and I won't give it to you. But I can empathize."**

**She laid one hand on his stubble-roughened cheek.**

"**I know your pain," she murmured. "I know how it feels to not be able to save those you love. I told you before how long it took for me to understand what happened, to face it. But with you I can. I know how hard it is to trust again. But my heart points me to you, and I have no intention of ignoring it."**

"**What are you saying?"**

**His voice was slow, almost unsure, and it was incredibly endearing.**

"**I'm saying that I love you."**

**And oh, how true that was. Even as she said it, she could feel the rightness of the words flowing through her. She loved this man with every part of her, broken and whole. He was the only person who'd ever made her feel safe, who she'd ever felt complete with. The way he warmed the coldness in her was something she cherished above everything else, and she prayed that in time, he would be able to see that. Hoped that he would be able to feel the same. But for now, all she could offer him was comfort, and she was going to do just that.**

"**I love you," she whispered again, before tiptoeing and pressing her lips to his. **

**He stiffened at the contact at first, hands wrapping around the tops of her arms like he was going to push her away. His lips remained cold and unmoving against hers. But instead of giving up, she slid her arms around his neck and tugged him even closer. He remained immobile. And just as she was about to move away and write him up as an impossibly stubborn lost cause, he parted his lips.**

**He kissed her back frantically, tongue tangling with hers in the most erotic dance she'd ever experienced. He crushed her so close she gasped for breath, but nothing had ever felt better. The steel of his chest pressed intimately against her breasts, a surprising pleasure that had her wiggling even deeper into his arms. His hands had slid from her shoulders to her waist, stroking her sides as he kissed her like his life depended on it. **

**He tasted like some exotic wildness she knew no one would ever truly tame. His devotion was for those he loved, and them alone. Only a fool would think otherwise. And Syriana Katapardos was anything but a fool. She wasn't a young, green girl under the impressions that she would one day find a dashing, daring man to sweep her off her feet while he proclaimed his undying love. Then again, she'd never planned on falling in love either. But Savitar wasn't a man who would ever allow himself to be tied down to one woman, she was under no delusion that he was.**

**Still, she loved him. And as he held her to him so fiercely it was like he was afraid of letting her go, she could almost believed he loved her too. **

**Tentatively, she slid her hands down to his chest, placing them over the warm expanse of muscle. His heart beat erratically, the frenzied tempo an echo of the way his lips devoured hers. She moved lower, the forever unbuttoned buttons of his shirt allowing her to explore his abdomen unhindered. The rippling planes of his stomach were rawly masculine, the angle of his hipbones strangely erotic. Frustrated at even the slightest thing hindering her, she pushed his shirt impatiently off his shoulders. **

**His sharp intake of breath made her freeze.**

"**Don't stop," he breathed against her mouth. "I was just a bit surprised."**

**She heard the hesitance in her voice, and it warmed her impossibly. Her big, fierce warrior was worried about scaring her, about pushing her too far. If she'd had any doubt of her love for him before, it was gone now. No one had ever taken her feelings into consideration before, they hadn't cared enough to. The fact that Savitar did deepened her trust in him to reckless and probably stupid heights, but she didn't care. She knew somewhere deep inside her that he'd never hurt her. He'd kept the promise he'd made with the first words he'd ever spoken to her, and she trusted him to continue doing so.**

**Oh, there was wariness in her. She'd never lied in her life, and most certainly not to herself. She could feel the vague memories of Tristan creeping up on her even as she resumed her curious exploration of Savitar's body, memories that threatened to bring back the old fear. Yet, she couldn't find any trace of terror in her body, just an odd, languid, and admittedly pleasant warmth that centered somewhere south of her navel. Much to her surprise, the heat spread even further when his hands found their way under the edge of her shirt. **

**She'd never felt anything like this beguiling burn that made her want things she'd never considered in her life. But oh, how she craved the magic his fingers were weaving as they teased the skin on her belly as they moved higher, and higher still. When he cupped her breast in his palm, she shivered. He stroked his thumb over the lace of her bra, and she moaned, her nipple hardening. He laughed law in his throat.**

"**That's it my sweet," he said seductively, nibbling her lower lip. **

**He worked his way downwards, placing butterfly kisses to the underside of her jaw as he did. His mouth was incredibly wicked as it did things to the tender flesh of her neck that made her squirm. Tilting her head back, she bared her throat to him. He seemed incredibly pleased about that, murmuring sweetly against her skin as he slid his hand out of blouse, only to dip to the waistband of her pants. She stilled.**

"**Shh," he soothed, kissing his way back to her lips. "I only wish to pleasure you. Nothing else."**

**His kiss distracted her as his fingers slipped under the edge of her leggings. She barely noticed his actions as his lips destroyed every rational thought in her head, but when he stroked the part of her that was hot and wet for him through her panties, she gasped. He smiled against her lips, continuing the gentle teasing that made her body foggy with pleasure. It felt so incredibly good, but part of her wanted more. She moved restlessly against his hand, and he laughed softly.**

"**More?" he breathed teasingly.**

**Before she could answer, he pushed aside the thin cotton of her panties, his fingers finding her slick core. Never before in her life had she ever thought she'd be so wanton and bold, but the feel of Savitar stroking her was driving sane thought from her mind. He played with her, drawing sounds from her she would've been mortified of had she been able to think about anything besides how much she wanted him. Contrarily, each breathy moan from her had him murmuring his approval as he kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck.**

"**Savitar," she near-whimpered. "Please."**

**He nuzzled her cheek affectionately.**

"**Please what?"**

**Without waiting for her reply, he plunged one finger into her, and she cried out. He thrust slowly, languidly into her, building the heat in her body to unbearable heights. She squirmed restlessly against him, riding his hand shamelessly as she desperately sought some unknown end that she craved more with each passing second. He added another finger and she moaned at how good it felt. The spring in her stomach was coiling tighter and tighter, and when he thumbed that sensitive bundle of nerves that was the eye of the storm raging through her, she shattered.**

**She cried his name out as pleasure so intense she felt like she was going do die from it flooded her. Savitar laughed in satisfaction, continuing his teasing until he'd wrung the last tremble form her. When she finally stilled, her head resting on his chest, her breathing ragged, he drew his fingers away. **

"**Did you enjoy yourself?" he asked, eyes gleaming with amusement and tender light.**

"**Understatement," was all she managed.**

**She slid her arms back around his waist, loving the steady feel of his strength cocooning her as he hugged her close. But when he shifted so their bodies were aligned perfectly, she frowned. She could feel his erection plainly against her hip. And now that she concentrated, she could see the tight set to his jaw as he dealt with his arousal alone. He'd given her her very first orgasm, and he'd taken no pleasure for himself. **

_**This man is the most selfless person I've ever met**_**.**

**And in that moment, she knew what she wanted. **

"**Make love to me," she murmured.**

"**What?"**

**He jerked back, eyes flying to hers.**

"**Make love to me," she repeated, reaching up to brush his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "Show me that it doesn't have to hurt. Make me forget everyone but you."**

"**Syri-"**

"**I'm not afraid," she whispered. "Not when I'm with you."**

**Her last words seemed to transform him, a fire leaping to his eyes that she'd never seen before. He crushed her to him with enough force to knock the wind out of her, but she didn't have the slightest inclination to complain when he kissed her like he was starving for her. Passion, hot and wild, flared between them. And before she knew it, he'd flashed the two of them to his bedchamber. **

"**No one has ever been in here except you," he said as he laid her back gently on the bed.**

"**Why-"**

"**Because I have never cared for anyone like I do for you."**

**And with that, he was on top of her, his kiss ever so demanding and ever so delectable. He reached for the buttons on his blouse, undoing them one by one as he dropped butterfly kisses over the skin he exposed. His hands were almost reverent as he slid the light cotton from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. They slid over her shoulders and arms, his calloused hands drugging her with their touch. When he felt her scars though, he pulled back, straddling her as he kneeled over her.**

**Self-consciousness suddenly flooded her. She'd never been one to hide her scars and be ashamed of them. But now, when she was looking at the dusky, tawny perfection of his skin, the flawlessness of his handsome face, she was horribly aware of what Tristan had done to her. With her shirt gone, he could clearly see the claw marks that trailed from her forehead down the left side of her face and neck, cutting across her breast to end just below her ribs. The other set coiled around her left arm, remnants from where she'd twisted wildly to get out of his grasp. If she turned over, the last set running from her nape down to her right thigh would be bared. And he hadn't even seen the bite marks on her leg yet. **

**Like he knew what she was thinking, Savitar brushed her ruined cheek tenderly.**

"**You are absolutely gorgeous," he said softly. "The scars you bear are nothing more than a testiment to your courage and strength. No matter what happens, you will always be my Syriana, and you will always be the most beautiful woman in the world. Nothing can ever change how I feel about you."**

**Oh, good heavens she was pathetic. She wanted to cry at his words, her traitorous eyes blurring with tears. But how could she help it? He was the sweetest person she'd ever met, and she **_**felt**_** pretty when she was with him, felt like she was wanted. **

**Smiling, he lifted her arm and kissed the scars starting at her wrist, tracing the livid marks with nibbles and licks. When he reached her neck, he shifted, kissing her briefly before he repeated the same actions, starting at her forehead. When his lips reached her breast, she shivered, and he smiled before he continued downwards. The entire time, Syri lay drowning in her emotions, in her love for him. There would be no other for her so long as she lived, and she knew it.**

"**Beautiful," he whispered to her as he carefully unhooked her bra.**

**She was nervous for other reasons now, knowing that she hardly had a body that made men look twice. Even before her attack, she'd never drawn much male attention. She was too short, too slight of build. Her small breasts hardly warranted ogling, and her hips were slim, her curves light and dainty. Yet Savitar seemed to notice none of that, his eyes holding only passion as he bent to suckle her tenderly.**

"**Oh," she gasped, cradling his head to her.**

**Small spikes of pleasure were building in her again, reigniting the fire that burned solely for him. She hardly noticed as he slid her leggings down her legs, her panties following soon after. It was only when he slid his hand between her things that she noticed. She groaned at his teasing touch, arching into him. He released her breast and returned to her lips, his mouth coaxing and demanding at the same time. His mind-numbing kiss combined with the sudden thrust of his fingers into her sent her over the edge again, her sensitive body bursting into sparks as she writhed under him.**

"**Beautiful," he repeated.**

**He sat back to look at her, stilling when he saw Tristan's teethmarks on her inner right thigh. As a cheetah, his jaws hadn't clamped hard enough to permanently damage her leg, but remembering the pain, she shuddered. She'd nearly bled to death when he'd severed her femoral artery, and judging by the rage on Savitar's face, he knew it too.**

"**I'm so sorry sweeting," he whispered. "Would that I could take your suffering and make it mine."**

**He brushed his fingers over the bite, before shifting so he could replace them with his lips. He kissed the abrasions lightly, making her tremble. And when he was done with that, he changed positions again, laying himself between her things. She arched off the bed when he took her in his mouth, pleasure making her dizzy. His licks were playful, teasing. He seemed to enjoy watching her writhe as sensation after sensation wracked her body. And when he tongued her clit gently, drawing yet another orgasm from her, he growled his approval.**

"**So sweet," he murmured, nuzzling his way back to her lips. **

**It was only then that she remembered he still had his shorts on, and she blushed, embarrassed that he'd given her so much already with taking anything for himself. But like always, Savitar seemed to know her thoughts though he'd told her he would never read her mind intentionally. He simply smiled and stroked her cheek.**

"**Your pleasure is mine," he told her, kissing her gently. **

**Nevertheless, his shorts disappeared seconds later, leaving him naked. Her flush deepened, and he grinned roguishly. **

"**Why, I do believe your blushing," he drawled seductively.**

**He traced his finger down her cheek, her neck, her side, to her hip. He watched her for an indefinable period of time, his gaze soft and adoring before he bent to press their lips together. He was incredibly careful as he laid himself over her, balancing most of his weight on his forearms. And yet, as much as she tried to deny it, fear welled up in that part of her that still lived in the past. Savitar felt the change in her demeanor instantly, and he rolled off of her. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her on top of him.**

"**My mistake," he murmured against her throat. "I shouldn't have been so careless."**

_**If he gets any more perfect, I'm going to die. **_

"**No, it's just I-"**

"**Shh," he soothed. "It's in the past."**

**He smiled sweetly at her, and she positively melted. Never before would she have believed that the feared Chthonian could be so tender and affectionate, but the proof was right there in front of her. He kissed and touched her with a passion that she could feel soul-deep, and yet he held and spoke to her like he was afraid he would break her. She couldn't quite reconcile the two different halves of him, and she didn't quite want to. **

"**Does this mean I get to be on top?" she asked, surprised she could joke with him like this.**

"**It means you get to be on top **_**this**_** time," he answered, bringing her palms to his lips. **

**Joy washing through her, she leaned over him, letting her hair cascade around them as she kissed him. He groaned his approval when she parted her lips for him, and she felt the teasing lightness leave his body as a new kind of tension replaced it. His lips became urgent, frantic on hers, his hands gripping her hips tightly. Delighted that she could wring this kind of response from him, she straddled his narrow hips, wiggling experimentally against him. Little lightning bolts of pleasure stung her, and she squirmed, trying to get closer.**

"**If you keep that up, we're both going to be disappointed," he said huskily.**

**Her cheeks flamed, and he laughed low in his throat.**

"**I wasn't complaining."**

"**I-"**

**He cut off her response by sealing their mouths together. He held himself still apart from his lips and tongue though, seeming to hold himself back like he was letting her set the pace. But she wanted this as much as he did, and it wasn't long before she was restless, aching to feel him inside of her. Laying her palms on his shoulders, she lifted her hips up and lowered herself cautiously, the head of him probing into her entrance. He hissed between his teeth, jaw clenching tightly.**

**She sank an inch lower, tensed as she waited for the pain, but it never came. There was no bleeding, no tearing, no blinding agony. Instead, there was pleasure so intense it brought tears to her eyes. Without consulting her mind, her body moved on its own, and she finally sank down, sheathing him completely. They moaned in unison. He was incredibly large and hard inside of her, the heated length of him making her shiver with the new awareness of her body. **

"**Ride me sweeting," he said raggedly, watching her through hooded eyes. "I am yours to do with as you will."**

**Cautiously, she slid upwards before taking him in again, sighing at the incredible sensations it caused. Even better than that though, was the picture Savitar presented underneath her. His fists were clenched in the bedsheets, so tightly his knuckles were white. His abdomen was outlined sharply by the restraint he was using to keep himself still. His eyes were hooded as he watched her, his jaw clenched. The tattoos that covered most of his body were absolutely beautiful as they seemed to dance across his skin. They fascinated her, and she shifted to lay her lips in his neck, tracing one of the colorful designs with her tongue.**

"**Gods, that feels good," he groaned.**

**She rotated her hips against him, and he cursed in a strained voice. Delighted with this newfound feminine power, she started rotating her hips as she rode him languidly, all the while tracing the tattoos that flowed over his body like water. She loved the powerful feel of his body under hers, all that strength laid out for her to explore. She felt the coil in her stomach knotting again, tighter than before. Her movements turned urgent as she moved faster against him. And when she came, she nearly screamed from the force of it.**

**Ecstasy wracked her body and she collapsed against him. Vaguely, somewhere, she heard his satisfied growl before he rolled her under him. His thrusts were harder, more desperate than hers had been. His hips slammed against hers, heightening her pleasure until she was too exhausted to move. Only when she was completely spent, did he finally let himself go.**

**He moaned, the sound impossibly erotic as he trembled above her. She could feel his release, his shaft jerking inside of her as he came. He buried his face in her hair, murmuring incoherence that made no sense to her whatsoever, yet was unspeakably precious. When he finally fell still, flipping quickly so he wouldn't crush her with his weight, she sighed in content. **

"_**Akribos**_**," he whispered, stroking her back.**

"**Hmm?"**

**She was curled against his side, her head on his chest, one leg over his. Absently, she traced one of the tattoos on his chest, a dragon. **

"**Acheron told me this would happen," he said softly.**

"**What?"**

**She sat up, kneeling as she looked at him. His hand reached up to touch her face, and she leaned her cheek into his palm. **

"**Acheron came to see me," he told her. "He told me he'd found the woman whom the Fates had destined for me."**

"**How-"**

"**Acheron is the Final Fate. He knows the future of everyone, unless he has personal attachments to them. When he saw you in Sanctuary, there was a hole in your future because he can't see mine. Our Fates were intertwined."**

"**So you, you knew when you came to see me?" **

**She wasn't sure how she felt about that. On one hand, she was relieved to know that Savitar really was hers, that something more powerful than both of them bound them together. On the other hand, she was kind of upset. Would Savitar have stayed with her if he didn't think he had to? Would he have even learned that she existed?**

"**Yes little cheetah, I knew when I went to see you."**

**He smiled bemusedly.**

"**And that day, I had every intention of seeing you, leaving, and never speaking to you again. 'Love' wasn't a word in my vocabulary before. It was only for the weak."**

**Her heart clenched with traitorous hope. **

"**And now?"**

**Her voice was shaky, even to her own ears. **

"**And now," he answered softly, "I realize that I could never have walked away from you."**

**He sat up, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her forehead, lips lingering.**

"**I knew from the first moment I saw you that Acheron was right. He had to be."**

**His eyes met hers, and they burned with so much emotion that they glowed.**

"**I couldn't let you go," he whispered. "I loved you too much."**


	7. Memories

Savitar watched with mild amusement and soul-deep satisfaction as his palm burned. Ancient Greek symbols were scrolling across his skin in inky black lines that formed an interlocking geometric pattern that vaguely resembled henna. It was a few hours after he'd left Syri in his bedroom, and he had no doubt that the newest tattoo on his hand was a Were-Hunter mating mark.

He couldn't help grinning like an idiot as he flexed his hand, closing his fist over the symbol that bound him and Syri together eternally. Distantly, he wondered why it had appeared, considering she held none of the other Were powers, but he didn't question it. In truth, he was incredibly glad that Syri now bore a mark that would tell any male stupid enough to get near her that she was his. He'd never been a particularly possessive person, but he knew with unfailing certainty that that rule did not apply to Syri. She was his, and he had no intention of ever letting her go. He loved her with a depth and intensity that both scared and thrilled him, and that was unchangeable.

So when he heard her terrified mental scream, his blood chilled.

Without consulting his mind, his powers flashed him from the beach back to his bedroom, where he found a-

"Cheetah?" he said, shocked.

But within seconds, the gorgeous cat had changed back into a naked and near-hysterical Syri. Seconds later, she changed again.

_Savitar_ her mental voice cried out, obviously not caring if he read her mind right now or not.

He watched with some sort of fascinated horror as she flashed in and out of animal form like she'd been shocked by a phaser. In cheetah form, she was probably just over two feet at the shoulder, and roughly four feet in length. Her long tail curled around her back leg in her panic. Golden tan fur was dappled with black spots, her stomach snowy white. She yowled in misery, and that jerked Savitar out of his momentary pause.

"Shh, I'm with you," he quieted, moving to kneel at her side.

_What's happening to me?_

He didn't have an explanation for that. He'd never sensed the Were side of her before, and he hadn't doubted her when she said she couldn't shift. And the terror in her mind right now made it clear she'd been telling the truth. But the fact that she was switching forms uncontrollably right now, the mark burned into their palms, and the new power he could sense in her proved both of them wrong.

"Easy," he soothed. "Let me help you."

She stilled, letting him pull her into his lap. It was odd, holding her as a human for a second, before the skin under his hand changed into thick, rough fur. But reaching out with his mind, he tapped into her powers and subdued them. Instantly, she flashed human and stayed that way. She was completely still, unconscious. He reached for her hand and flipped it over, eyes tracing the geometric design on it, identical to his.

_The mark_ he realized. _It all started with the mark._

* * *

><p>"It...they're permanent now? My powers?"<p>

Syri looked hesitant, fingering her scars anxiously.

"It's the only explanation. You can shift now, and the mating mark is obvious."

Savitar pulled her closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. The two of them were at the beach, watching the waves roll in. Sitting on the sandy shore, he sat with her cradled between his legs, her back to his chest. Reaching for her hand, he laced their fingers together so she would stop fidgeting.

"It's nothing to be worried about," he told her.

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, making him grin.

"I was always under the impression you _wanted_ your powers."

"Well I...I do, but I don't _understand_. I've lived over fifty years, and I couldn't so much as turn off a light switch with my mind. Now I can flash wherever I want and move almost anything I want just thinking about it."

It'd been nearly two days since she'd first shifted, and they were both adjusting to her newfound abilities. But, he was the one who'd taught the legendary Acheron to control his powers after all, and Syri had mastered hers in relatively little time.

"You'll get used to it eventually," he assured her, bringing their twined hands to his lips so he could brush a kiss on her knuckles. "It certainly can't take longer than when I gained Savita and Savitri's powers."

It'd taken him years to finally control the incredibly destructive abilities he'd gained from his siblings. He had the powers of three Chthonians, and that made him deadlier than most people could comprehend. In the first few months after their deaths, he'd done more damage unintentionally than he had done in the rest of his life combined.

"It wasn't your fault," Syri said.

She played idly with the frayed edge of his shorts, one of her many habits. She didn't look up as she spoke, and he once again wondered how she could tell what he was thinking by simply searching his eyes or listening to his voice. It was one of the things he loved most about her. That and her compassion. And her strength. And her beauty, both inside and out. And her-

He smiled slightly. Yeah, there were a lot of things he loved about her.

Absently, he toyed with her fingers as they watched the waves roll in. There was something incredibly _right_ about being here with her. There were a precious few who he'd allowed onto Neratiti, mostly the Omegrion, and the only ones to ever visit the beach were Ash and Sim. But Syri…. He grinned. He was going to have to change his motto for her.

"There are only three people I love, and you're not one of them," he said, testing it out.

"Hmm?"

Syri tilted her head to look up at him, confused.

"Not you sweeting. I was just thinking."

"Okay."

She turned back to picking at his shorts.

He watched as her delicate fingers carefully untangled a wayward thread before breaking it off. She seemed preoccupied, and his suspicions were confirmed when she started scratching her scars. He frowned as he realized she'd never told him the full story behind how she'd gotten them. He'd pieced together a lot of it from the bits that'd she let slip, but a lot of that was assumed, and he wanted to hear it from her.

"Will you tell me now?" he asked in a murmur.

She knew what he was talking about, and she stilled her movements.

"I...yes."

She took a deep breath and nestled deeper into his arms before she started.

"I'm sure you already know most of this," she said quietly. "But I was born without my powers. It's normal for Arcadians to not be able to shift or control magic until they hit puberty, but almost all of us show signs of our lineage as soon as we're born. I didn't, and when my mother figured out that was most likely permanent, she tried to kill me. But she said that because she wasn't an animal Katagaria, she was too human to do it by her own hand. Instead, she left me out on the middle of the woods to die."

Cold rage flooded him as he squeezed her tighter to him, trying not to concentrate on how much he wanted to murder her mother right now. The thought of anyone harming a child pissed him off to no end, and the fact that it was Syri made him dangerously volatile. The waves picked up in reaction.

"Of course," she continued, "I didn't understand anything that was going on. Klarys told me everything later, when I was old enough. But he found me in the forest, took me home."

She smiled at the memory.

"He was an Katagaria jaguar somewhere in his seven hundreds. When he found me, he adopted me, I guess you could say. But he raised me like a father, and I can tell you right now he was the sweetest, kindest, most doting person to ever exist. It's a wonder I wasn't spoiled rotten."

She laughed softly.

"The word 'no' was not in his vocabulary, and I don't think I'd ever seen him mad. I remember the time I nearly burned down the house cooking while he was out hunting, and the only thing he said when he got back was 'I guess we're going to have to move'," she recalled, tapping her lip. "Now that I think about it though, I think that's how he kept me in line. He was so nice all the time I didn't _want_ to disappoint or disobey him. Sounds like something he would do. I was perfectly content there, and I would've done anything to keep things like they were."

Her voice dropped.

"But when I hit puberty, I still had no powers. I couldn't shift. I was as good as human, especially in the eyes of the rest of the world. And gods, _especially _in the eyes of my family. There were ashamed of me, told me that they cursed the day I was born. My own mother wanted me dead, but she said that was too good for me. No, she had to kill the only person I'd ever loved while my own cousin raped me."

Savitar hissed in a sharp breath and let it out in a snarl that promised death to the people who'd hurt her. The waves started to boil as his powers darkened the air around them, a storm gathering in the distance. His grip on her tightened until she gasped, but all he could do was crush her closer. She was absolutely everything to him, and he felt a surge of protectiveness and possessiveness flood through him. The thought of another man touching her, and against her will, sent flashes of lightning slicing across the now-grey sky.

"What happened?" he asked, a rough growl the only voice he could manage.

"They-, they came two weeks after my birthday. I was with Klarys in the woods. We were taking pictures of the trees."

She smiled tightly.

"He always encouraged my hobbies, said that I was gifted. After he died, I wanted to give up photography forever, but I remembered his words. It's why I keep doing it, because he wanted me to."

She shuddered.

"I miss him so much," she whispered. "Sometimes I wake up, and I think he's still here. But then I realize where I am, and I remember that my mother stole him from me forever. When they came for us, I was helpless to do anything but watch as she and my cousin killed him. They had a phaser, and they hit him with it before we knew what was happening. They didn't set it to kill though, but there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish they had."

Horror filled her voice, and she flinched into his already bone-crushing hold on her.

"They set it just high enough to incapacitate him, and then they killed him slowly while I watched. I won't, I can't-, I-"

"Shh," he murmured. "You don't have to tell me what they did to him."

She breathed a sigh of relief before continuing.

"When he was dead, I thought they were going to leave. My mother went, flashed back home. But Tristan, he-, he stayed."

Tristan. So that was the bastards name. So that was the _dead_ bastards name. The man was as good as a pile of ashes now. As soon as he settled Syri into bed tonight, he was going to find her tormentor and kill him so slowly he would be begging for death. Tartarus was too good for him. He was going to put the cheetah through torture that would make a mockery of hell.

"He stayed, and he attacked me next. The last words I heard from my mother were 'teach her a lesson'. And then after that-, after that, I wish she'd just killed me. Tristan shifted and jumped me, even though I couldn't fight back. He cut my face first. After, he clawed my arm and I tried to roll away, that's why the scars coil. He caught my back next."

Her voice was a flat monotone now, but he knew her well enough to hear the agony behind her words.

"He flashed my clothes off, left me naked and bleeding. I tried to get away, and he bit my leg, severing my femoral artery. I was bleeding to death, and he didn't care. He just flashed back to human form and-"

She let out a choked sob.

"Shh _akribos_," he whispered, "you don't have to tell me that either."

"He left as soon as he was done," she finished in a barely audible voice. "He told me good riddance and flashed away. I would've died on the forest floor, if his brother hadn't saved me."

"He found you?"

"Brought me to Sanctuary. Carson healed me, and I've been wandering ever since. Vane took me in when I saved Bride from being mugged a few months ago."

"Who is this mysterious rescuer?"

"Jace Wilder."

Savitar frowned as he recognized the name. Jace was the Arcadian Helikias Regis to the Omegrion. The cheetah was the brother of Syri's rapist?

"I owe him much," he muttered.

Syri didn't seem to hear him, her head bent as silent tremors racked her body.

"I've never told anyone else that," she whispered.

"So why-"

"Because I love you."

His heart clenched at the sincerity in her voice. Overwhelmed by the outpour of love her words had caused in him, he dipped his head to kiss her, growling possessively when he felt her lips part for him. Only him. His mind flashed back to her previous words, snarling as he recalled what Tristan had done to her. The bastard hadn't seen to her comfort at all, had taken what he'd wanted and left. That made him the worst kind of low-life Savitar could imagine. And to commit those atrocities against his Syri no less…

He was overtaken by the sudden need to possess her. Mark her. Make it clear to her and the rest of the world that no matter what had happened in her past, she was now his, under his protection. Nothing would touch her ever again. He wanted, needed to feel her, for her to feel him. For her to realize that nothing that had happened had been her fault. For her to understand that he adored her, doted on her, loved her. That he could deny her nothing and would give her the world if she asked for it.

His kiss grew more passionate as he savored the feel of her trusting him so completely. He knew what it cost her to be touched, knew how physical contact with other people raised memories in her mind he'd sell his soul to erase. But he felt nothing from her except her oh so sweet surrender as she relaxed into his arms, visibly making an effort to forget everything she'd just told him. He sensed that she needed this as much as he did, that she needed him. Perhaps not for his body, but for the love he wanted to lavish on her until it drove her crazy, for the comfort he would always be ready to give to her. There was no fear or uncertainty in her as she willingly submitted to his sensual onslaught.

"How sweetly your trust in me chains me to you," he whispered against her mouth.

She answered him by pressing their lips together again, parting his with hesitant strokes of her tongue. Her tongue touched his tentatively, carefully exploring his mouth with delicate licks. It drove him crazy. Quickly, he lifted her and set her back down so she was straddling him, going hard as a diamond when he was firmly cradled between her thighs. Damn, it felt good to feel her rubbing against him, hear her whimpering softly when he grabbed her hips to pull her down harder against his aching length. The heat of her pressed to him was slowly making him mindless as the urge to take his mate overtook everything else. They belonged together, and the scrolling tattoos on their palms proved it.

His lips found her cheek, her jaw, her neck. He kissed her throat hungrily, relishing her soft pleasured sighs and her wordless encouragement as she played with his hair. He bit down lightly, teasingly, and was rewarded by her groan as she wiggled in his lap. The delicious sensation of it made his already straining erection throb, and he fought the urge to flash off their clothing and slide into her that second. But even in his lust-clouded state, he was still rational enough to realize he loved her too much to take her with that lack of respect. That in mind, he flashed them to his bedroom, sitting on the edge of his bed while she still straddled him.

Her breathing was quickening, roughening. She watched him with amber fire in her eyes as he unbuttoned the shirt she'd taken from his closet that morning and slid it off her shoulders. The primal side of him grinned with smug satisfaction at the sight of her in his clothes, extremely pleased with the way his scent and aura now lingered all over her, warning every supernatural being who had a nose and a shred of brains to stay the hell away from her. The material fell to the floor as he pushed it away from her. He was slightly bemused as he finally realized why she thought his clothing was tacky, noticing how, well, _tacky_ the bright hawaiian shirt looked, even paired with her demure black tights.

But all traces of humor fled when he quickly did away with her bra and lifted her hips to remove her leggings, leaving her all but bare before him. Her delicate pink panties were extremely enticing, but his eyes shifted to her bare breasts, heat licking through him. He felt the familiar flash of pulsing rage as his eyes traced over the scars that marred the creamy perfection of her skin, but he fought it down, intent on making both of them forget the past. Bending forward, his arms around her back to support her, he took one rosy nipple into his mouth. He nibbled lightly, her quiet moans only pushing him to pleasure her further.

Standing and turning, he laid her gently across the crimson and gold sheets. He kissed her fiercely as he slid her panties down her legs and threw them to the floor with the rest of her clothes. When she was finally bare beneath him, he kneeled over her, achingly aware of how incredibly erotic it was to have her lying naked in his bed while he was still fully clothed. He looked over her with adoring eyes, his hands reverent as they brushed over her skin. She was completely perfect in every way, and he had no idea why the Fates had blessed him with her. All he knew was that he wanted to love her for eternity and then some, and he planned on starting now.

"You are exquisite sweeting," he whispered.

How had he ever not thought her the most beautiful woman in existence?

He brushed her face, her shoulders, her stomach. Sliding his palms up her legs, he stroked her gently curved hips, her skin sensually soft under his. Her eyes darkened with desire, and he knew what she wanted though she didn't say anything aloud. He locked gazes with her. Slowly, he trailed his fingers over the curve of her waist, acutely aware of the way she unconsciously raised her hips to meet his touch. A smile curved one side of his mouth as he eased a hand between her legs, delighted to find her already wet for him. He stroked her lightly before slipping one finger into her. She shivered, biting her lip, and he fought down a groan. Did she have any idea how sexy that was?

Bending, he braced his free hand next to her head so he could lean down and kiss her. Her lips were eagerly responsive to him, and he nibbled on them for a minute before sinking lower. He kissed a path down her throat before skimming his nose along her breasts and placing an openmouthed kiss on her stomach. He knew from the last time they'd made love how incredibly sensitive her body was, and it delighted him, knowing he could give her pleasure. With that thought firm in hand, he nipped his way up the inside of her thigh before settling himself between her legs.

"Savitar? Wha-, _oh_."

He laughed low in his throat, locking gazes with her as he teased her with his tongue and lips. She was so damned _sweet_, and if it was possible, he hardened even more. He'd never been this aroused in his life, and his cock was throbbing painfully as his body begged him to claim her. He slid one finger into her as he grazed his teeth over her. Her answering groan only drove him further, and he swirled his tongue around her clit. She flew apart for him, and he growled in satisfaction. Drunk on the scent and taste of her, he slid back up to her lips, kissing her deeply.

"I think you're wearing too many clothes," she said, her voice so innocent and almost confused sounding it made him smile.

"Would you like to help me with that?" he asked as he kissed her forehead.

She blushed, but nodded. Her brow furrowed, she set her hands on his shoulder and carefully pushed his shirt down his arms. He could've flashed his clothes off, but there was something incredibly intimate about having her undress him. She let his shirt fall to the floor, eyes bright as she explored his chest with her fingers. She outlined the phoenix on his lower right stomach, the ancient Atlantean and Greek symbols that were scrolled down his side. The dragon across his upper chest, she traced with her mouth, and he bit back a moan. Still occupied with his tattoos, she quickly undid his shorts and pushed them down his hips. She kissed his chest, his neck, his jaw. Impatient, he captured her lips with his, parting them so he could explore her mouth with his tongue. She squirmed under him, and he caught his breath when he felt himself lodged at her entrance.

"I love you," he whispered. "More than anything."

She kissed his cheek chastely, and smiled that heartbreaking smile that never failed to melt him.

"My love," she whispered back, brushing his hair away from his face. "I love you."

He hadn't heard those words in over seventeen thousand years. And to hear them from her…

He let out a tortured groan and drove himself into her with one quick thrust, hissing in pleasure as damp silk closed over him. She arched beneath him, and he sank in even further. When he was lodged completely inside of her, he stilled, simply savoring the feel of her under him. Raw pleasure was pumping through him at the feel of her body accepting his so sweetly, her channel tight and hot around him. He dropped his face into the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply.

"Beautiful," he purred.

"Savitar."

"Mm, yes my love?"

She wriggled her hips, and he groaned softly.

"Please," she breathed.

Unable to deny her when his own body was screaming at him to move, he pulled out of her slowly, only to return with one long, deep thrust. She arched her hips in encouragement, and he repeated the action, over and over. He wanted nothing more than to abandon his control and let his passion take over, but acutely aware of how much smaller than him she was, he kept a tight leash on himself. At least he tried to, but when the pleasure became too much…. He gritted his teeth, and Syri smiled softly.

"Let yourself go," she said, stroking his cheek. "I don't mind."

Relief flooded him at the same time he gave himself over to his baser instincts. He kissed her fiercely, possessively, intoxicated with her sweetness. His thrusts quickened, deepened until they were both moaning and out of their minds with need. _This_ was how he wanted her. He'd been in complete control of his emotions and actions his entire existence, but not with her. She threw his control out the window, and he wanted to show her just how much power she held over him. He could think of nothing else except her as he plunged into her repeatedly until he was dizzy from the pleasure. He had never in his life finished before his partner, but damn if he wasn't two seconds away from releasing. Biting his lip to stave off his orgasm, he reached between her legs to stroke her in time to his thrusts.

"Come for me, sweeting," he urged raggedly.

He growled in approval as he felt her release, heard her cry out. He continued to thrust into her, hard and deep to draw out her pleasure. But she tightened even further around him, clamping down on his swollen shaft hard enough to make his head spin, and he cursed at how good she felt. Finally unable to deny his body any longer, he let himself come. Erotic ecstasy poured through him in waves as he released into her. He let out a low moan as his body shook from the force of his pleasure. He collapsed on top of her, still convulsing. His orgasm lasted for what felt like hours though he knew it hadn't been more than a couple minutes, and when he came back down from his high, he was completely spent and sated. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled over so she was lying on his chest, still buried deep inside of her.

"Syri," he murmured. "My Syri."

She nuzzled his neck, and he sighed contentedly.

"Do you know," she started, cocking her head to the side. "How my kind feels about making love?"

Savitar bit his lip from moaning as he remembered the sexual prowess of all Weres. Sex only invigorated them.

"Baby, I don't think I can do a round two right now," he told her truthfully, though he'd already gone hard again just thinking about it.

She smiled sweetly as she rotated her hips against his, and he wondered vaguely what had changed to make his shy, hesitant Syri so bold. But he quickly forgot everything except the feel of her on top of him, around him, as she lifted her hips and sank back down slowly. He groaned low in his throat, and she laughed delightedly. Her voice when she spoke was pure seduction.

"_You_ don't have to do anything."

* * *

><p>"She's adjusting well," Acheron observed.<p>

"To what?"

"Being kidnapped and held against her will."

Savitar rolled his eyes, both of them knowing full well that if Syri wanted to go home, he would simply go with her. Right now, he and Ash were on the beach, watching as Simi attempted to show her how to surf. He knew he looked like a lovesick idiot as he watched her with pure adoration on his face, but he was completely besotted with her and didn't give a damn who knew. He heard Acheron snort a laugh.

"If you're going to say 'I told you so', I hope you have a coffin somewhere," he threatened.

"Ah, I'm just happy for you."

"Uh huh."

"No, I'm serious. I've never seen you smile until well, five minutes ago."

"Hilarious, really."

Ash frowned.

"You'd think finding your soulmate would make a person happier. Or at least less sarcastic."

"Again, hilarious."

The truth was, he _was_ happier. Immensely so. For the first time in seventeen thousand years, he had a reason to keep existing, a reason to live. Looking back, he knew that the only reason he'd never done something stupid like kill himself or end the world before was for Simi and Ash. But now, with Syri…

"Is it always like this?" he asked. "For everyone who finds their soulmates?"

If it was, he could finally understand what Ash had meant by saying love made his Hunters stronger. Right now, there was nothing he wouldn't do for Syri, and he would kill anything or anyone who dared to upset her. Knowing she loved him gave him a strength he'd never felt before.

"Usually," Ash answered. "Maybe not as powerfully, considering Chthonians feel emotions more deeply than the average Were or immortal. But it's generally the same for everyone."

He paused.

"Have you completed the bond yet?"

Savitar shook his head.

"She still hasn't said anything, and I won't push her to do something she's not ready for."

"So you're going to go celibate forever?"

"We still have a bit more than two weeks."

"What?"

He sensed Ash's surprise, and smiled tightly.

"The first time I made love to her was only four days ago."

"Huh. And I thought I had restraint."

Savitar thought back to the uncontrollable passion that had raged between him and Syri last night, the way both of them had finally fallen asleep from pure exhaustion as the sun rose. He snorted.

"Yeah. Restraint. That's funny."


	8. Taken

"**Mm, I could get used to this."**

**Syri looked down and smiled, running her hands through Savitar's shaggy waves. She sat cross legged on a blanket on the beach, his head cradled in her lap as he lay on his back. The sky was crystal clear, and the ocean lapped gently at the shore while the sun shone bright and warm above them. She couldn't remember ever feeling more peaceful in her life, and she cherished every second of it. Every second with him.**

"**Definitely," she answered.**

**She was utterly content, trusting him completely with both her body and heart. It was a feat that shocked even her at times, but she didn't regret her decision to be with him, and she never would. He meant the world to her. His strong and steady presence in her life was nothing short of a miracle, one she intended to treasure the rest of her life. His affection and love were things she would never tire of, and she loved him back with all her heart. She'd finally found the person who could silence her past and make her forget who and what she was.**

"**I think I'm going to have to keep you forever," she mused, mildly surprised with her own boldness, but too comfortable with him to care.**

"**And I think I might just let you," he teased back.**

**His eyes were glowing with lavender fire, and she couldn't help picking up her camera from beside her to snap a picture of him. He protested at the flash, and she laughed. **

"**Don't make me regret going to get that for you," he grumbled.**

**She snorted.**

"**You waved your hand and made it appear in our room along with the rest of my stuff. 'Going to get that' my foot."**

**He grinned boyishly, the look transforming his normally harsh and stern features.**

"**Ah, well, chalk it up to lazy godliness."**

**She smiled and shook her head. She set her camera back down and occupied herself with braiding parts of his hair.**

"**I must love you," he observed. **

"**Hmm?"**

"**I'm letting you turn me into a girl."**

**She almost laughed at that. There was absolutely nothing about Savitar Chthonian that was feminine in any way. She was 99.9% sure that if you put makeup on him and dressed him in drag, he'd still look more masculine than most of the world's population. **

"**What time is it?" she asked after a while, pausing in the middle of a braid.**

**He had an Omegrion meeting to attend to in an hour or so, and he'd insisted on bringing her to Vane's house before it so that the wolf's near-million dollar security system would keep her safe. Paranoid to the extreme, he didn't even want to leave her in the palace alone, for fear that something would happen to her during the meeting. She was extremely tempted to tell him that he needed to stop acting like a fussing grandmother and to have a bit of faith in her own capabilities, but didn't have the heart to. She was just as protective of those she loved. **

"**Twelve thirty," he answered.**

**She frowned. It was much later than she'd thought.**

"**Your meeting's in fifteen minutes."**

"**Ah, they can live without me. After all, I'd much rather be here with you."**

**She tapped his forehead reprovingly. **

"**You have to go. You're head of the council."**

"**Hmph."**

"**Come on, let's go. The quicker you go the quicker you'll be back."**

**Looking like he wanted to argue, but was unable to dispute her logic, he sighed and stood, offering her a hand to help her up. But when she started straightening her dress, he frowned. He furrowed an eyebrow as he eyed her up and down, eyes calculating.**

"**I think you should wear a nun's habit," he finally said.**

**She choked.**

"**What?"**

"**That dress is way too sexy."**

**In truth, it was a simple blue sundress that was actually rather chaste if you looked at it closely. It reached her knees and the bell sleeves had tiny white flowers embroidered on them. Her flip-flops were plain black, and her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. She frowned, not quite sure what Savitar was talking about. But when she eyed him closer, she caught his real emotions, and she burst out laughing.**

"**Vane is happily mated," she said.**

"**Uh huh."**

"**He's only going to be there for like five minutes before you two leave. And I really don't think Bride's going to care."**

"**Hmph, never hurts to be safe. You're way too adorable for your own good."**

"**You're the only one who thinks so. All everyone else sees is the scars."**

**It was true, and she was incredibly pleased by how much she just didn't care anymore. She knew Savitar loved her despite her faults, and that was enough. **

"**Well then they're all idiots," he said, and she bit her lip to keep from laughing at his indignant expression. **

"**Come on, i don't want you to be late."**

**He pouted, but pulled her close to his chest and flashed them to Vane's. They appeared in the dining room just as Bride was starting to clear lunch off the table. Vane leapt up instantly at the intrusion, fully ready to defend his mate, but he sat back down when he saw who it was. He waved a hand in greeting, raising an eyebrow when he saw Syri wrapped in Savitar's arms. **

"**Nice to see you're still alive," he said, hazel eyes amused. "After you disappeared, Bride nearly had a heart attack. She threatened to make me sleep in the garage if I didn't make sure you were okay."**

"**That's no way to greet guests," Bride frowned, coming back into the room.**

**She went straight over to Syri and pulled her friend into a tight hug. Syri sighed contentedly. Bride was impossible not to love. She had an intuitiveness to rival hers, a heart so kind it made people like Vane and his brothers squirm, and was fiercely loyal to those she loved. It felt good to know that there was still that kind of goodness left in the world.**

"**Where on earth have you been?" Bride demanded as she pulled back. "I've been worried sick."**

**Syri pointed silently to Savitar, who stood back to watch their exchange. She didn't miss the slightly wary look on his face, or the protective way he'd angled his body towards hers, and she smiled to herself. It was incredible, knowing that she had someone at her back. And knowing that person was Savitar…. Ugh, she was getting too sappy for her own good. But then, Savitar just had that kind of effect on her, and she enjoyed ever second of it. Her mate matched her perfectly.**

**Bride narrowed her eyes, her observing nature kicking in.**

"**Something's different about you," she said.**

"**Hmm?"**

"**You're not scared of me anymore."**

**Syri flinched.**

"**I was never scared of you."**

"**So how come you-, oh."**

**Bride flicked a glance at Vane.**

"**Well I must admit, he is rather imposing."**

**Vane quirked a brow.**

"**So I've been told. Terrifying I am, really."**

"**Sorry," Syri muttered, blushing.**

**She still wasn't sure how she felt about Vane, or the male population in general. Savitar had made it obvious to her that not everyone with a Y chromosome was evil, but she was still wary. Vane was kind and generous, and as far as she knew, he'd never raised a hand to a woman in his life, yet part of her was still wary. Still, she knew that it would make Bride happy if she could accept him, so she offered him a hesitant smile. He grinned back.**

"**Nice to see you again," he said. "Glad to know Sav hasn't done you any damage."**

**Savitar growled and suddenly, he was between her and Bride, dragging her against his chest.**

"**I would kill all of you before I let her get hurt, and I wouldn't lay a hand on her if she didn't want me to," he scowled.**

**Vane tilted his head to the side.**

"**Did I miss something?" he asked. "Last time I saw you, you flashed in, released a demon on my fridge, and then flashed out."**

"**They're mated," Bride said, her voice confidant.**

**Vane looked like he was going to choke.**

"**What?"**

"**I'll bet you doing the dishes I'm right. Even though we both know you're going to cheat and use magic."**

"**Ah, you love me anyway," he answered with a wink.**

**He turned back to Syri and Savitar.**

"**Is she right?"**

**Savitar paused for a moment, like he wasn't sure if he should trust anyone with the information or not. But Syri reached out with her mind and tentatively touched his thoughts. **

_**It's fine**_** she told him. **_**We can trust them**_**.**

_**I'm not exactly well-loved**_** he answered, powerful enough that he could project his thoughts into her head on top of reading hers. **_**As my mate you'd be hunted too**_**.**

_**It's not like they don't already know**_**.**

**With an audible sigh, Savitar nodded. He raised his palm to show them the mating mark.**

"**Congratulations," Bride smiled. "I'm happy for you two."**

**Vane nodded.**

"**And now," Bride continued. "It's 12:43. Hurry along now boys, or you'll be late."**

**She made shooing motions with her hand, and Syri laughed. Vane caught her around the waist and pulled her close for a long, lingering kiss before he winked and disappeared. **

"**You have to go too," Syri chided, wriggling in Savitar's grip. "You're kind of the leader."**

"**We'll tell them I got the flu."**

"**An immortal Chthonian struck with influenza? Uh huh. Go. I'll be fine until you get back."**

**Still looking like he wanted to argue, he tilted her chin up and captured her lips in a fiercely possessive kiss. Her knees went weak, and she felt him smile in smug satisfaction against her mouth before he pecked her cheek and disappeared. As soon as he was gone, a single red rose appeared in her hand. She smiled to herself, and sniffed it idly.**

"**He really loves you, doesn't he," Bride said, a statement, not a question.**

"**I think he does. I believe he does."**

"**And you love him?"**

"**Irrevocably."**

**Bride's expression was much the same self-satisfied smirk Savitar's had been.**

"**I told Vane this was going to happen as soon as Savitar came here the first time. And did he believe me? No."**

**Her grin widened.**

"**That'll teach him not to listen."**

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>And if that mockingbird don't sing, momma's gonna buy you a diamond ring. And if that diamond ring don't shine…<strong>_**"**

**Syri sang absently as she rocked Trace back and forth in the rocking chair that resided in the corner of his nursery. Bride's infant son was every bit as beautiful as his mother. His auburn hair curled around an angelic face, and his tiny hands were adorable as they gripped her finger, her nose, her hair. She'd been in here for the last half an hour or so, having told Bride she needed to take a break and go soak in the tub. **

"_**...when the wind blows, the cradle will rock…**_**"**

**She smiled to herself. She'd always been most comfortable around children. They didn't judge, and they weren't scarred and twisted yet. Trace was cooing happily in her arms as she fed him formula from his bottle, and she didn't even mind when some of it dribbled on her dress. A simple thought, and the stain disappeared, perks of finally gaining her powers. She sighed contentedly and leaned back, cuddling him close. **

**Holding Trace like this made her wonder what it would be like to have her own family, to be cradling her own child. How she yearned for that. Asides from Klarys and Savitar, she'd never had someone to spoil and love. And now that she was mated, the possibility of a family was finally within her reach…. Well, she'd have to complete the bond with Savitar fist. They had just under two weeks left to perform the ceremony, and he hadn't said anything to her so far about it. But she fully intended to take him as her mate, permanently. When the **_**thirio**_** hit, she wouldn't hesitate to take his blood and bind them forever. She was musing quietly to herself, when the door to the nursery banged open. **

"**Bride?" she asked.**

"**No, it's me."**

**Acheron stood in the doorway, smiling slightly. **

"**Hey Syri."**

"**Hi Ash."**

**He seemed so normal, so...Ash-like, that for a second, she didn't notice anything suspicious. But when he stepped further into the room, a wave of panic went through her, and she realized this was most certainly **_**not**_** Acheron. The calm she'd instantly felt in his presence last time was absent. There was no soothing quality to the man standing in front of her right now. It was the other one, his twin. Styxx. The sunglasses that were firmly in place despite the dim light in the room were proof of that. Syri stiffened, hugging Trace tighter.**

"**Why are you here?" she asked.**

"**Huh? Just to say hi to you of course."**

"**Why would you?"**

"**Because we're friends."**

"**I don't even know you!"**

**Styxx's jaw tightened.**

"**What are you talking about? I'm Ash."**

"**I know who you are Styxx."**

**His lip curled into a sneer.**

"**So you've figured it out. Took you long enough."**

**She felt her face pale in fear. For whatever reason he was here, she knew it didn't bode well for her if the look on his face was anything to judge by. His expression was cold and distant, evil. She stood so fast that she almost knocked over the rocking chair. Moving quickly, she shifted to stand behind it, though the wooden chair wasn't going to do much to protect her from him. **

"**What do you want?" she asked.**

"**Acheron."**

"**So why are you here?"**

"**Because I can't kill him or I'll die as well."**

"**So what in the name of the gods do you plan on doing?"**

**He grinned nastily, and she shivered. **

"**I barely know him," she told him. "He won't do anything if you take me."**

"**I know."**

**Confusion rolled through her, along with a blast of fear. Panic set in when she tried to flash out of the room only to discover she couldn't. Had her powers left her again? But when she checked her palm, the mating mark was still there, and she breathed a sigh of relief. But it was short-lived when she realized something was restraining her, something much more powerful than the human in front of her. **

"**What's going on?" she demanded, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.**

"**You will see eventually."**

"**How come I can't use my powers?"**

"**Because someone much more powerful than you is making sure you can't."**

**Trace started screaming in her arms, like he knew something bad was happening. Styxx's eyes widened in interest.**

"**Yours?" he asked. **

"**No. He's-, Bride! Where is she?"**

**Her mind reeled as fear for her friend poured through her. **

"**She's fine. Lounging in the tub from what I know."**

"**Will you hurt her?"**

"**Not if you comply."**

"**With what?"**

"**You're going to leave here with me without putting up a fuss about it."**

"**Or what?"**

"**Or I will kill your friend and her child while you watch."**

**Syri shuddered and nodded. She would take her own life right now if he asked her to. She knew firsthand how much it hurt to lose your loved ones, and she would never allow that to befall Vane. Not when he'd been nothing but kind to her. Besides, Bride was her only friend, and she wasn't about to let anything happen to her. But how would Savitar react when he discovered she'd gone willingly with the person he'd warned her incessantly about?**

**Savitar.**

**Acheron.**

**It clicked for her then. **

"**He wouldn't come for me, but he would for Savitar," she muttered, horror dawning with the realization.**

"**Very good."**

"**You won't be able to capture him," she snarled, her natural need to protect Savitar overriding fear for herself. "Just because you can subdue my powers, doesn't mean you can subdue his. He's-"**

**She caught herself before she could reveal what he was, but Styxx just shrugged.**

"**I know he's a Chthonian. You think I didn't plan this out?"**

"**Well you obviously didn't, because there's no way in hell you will ever be able to defeat him or capture him!"**

"**Who said anything about capturing him?"**

**Another man suddenly appeared in the doorway next to Styxx. Ominously tall and muscled with black hair and shades darker than midnight, he was the personification of unfeeling evil. And when he removed the glasses….she gasped. He had the same eyes as Acheron. Swirling silver filled with secrets and power buried int heir depths. Only this man was nothing like Ash. His grin when he looked at her was cold, malicious. She shivered.**

"**Syriana Katapardos," he acknowledged. "I've spent a long time tracking you down."**

"**Wha-"**

"**Savitar hasn't let you out of his sight since Styxx made the mistake of revealing himself to you. And now the idiot has gone and left you defenseless in the human plane. Not that being on Neratiti would've made a difference. Would've made it easier actually."**

**The man shrugged.**

"**At least he had some brains. Almost didn't find you here."**

"**What are you-"**

"**Planning on doing with you?"**

**He and Styxx exchanged meaningful looks that sent shivers all the way down to her toes. **

"**You'll see. Eventually."**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Stryker.<strong>_

**The name resounded through her mind as she paced the tight confines of her cell. She hated feeling trapped, and the small room they'd placed her in was wearing on her nerves. Not to mention that outright fear was pouring through her as she recalled just who it was that held her captive. Even cut off from her world as she was, she still knew who Stryker was. Knew that the demigod apollite was one of the cruelest things to stalk the night. He was the one who was restraining her powers, and she was desperate to find a way to regain them so she could flash herself home, to Savitar.**

**She feared what they would do to him. She knew that they had something in mind, or they wouldn't have been so foolish as to incur his wrath. They were very confidant they wouldn't be killed, and she didn't know why. At least not for Stryker. She seethed as she recalled that Styxx couldn't be killed without killing Acheron. It was the only thing that'd stopped her from slashing his throat when he'd dumped her in her cell. **

**As for Stryker...she knew he was powerful. If he could render her basically human, he had to be. And yet, she knew that Savitar would win a fight hands down, so why was he so confidant in his own safety? As far as she knew, he didn't have a twin that would die if he did…. She bit her lip. Not knowing her own fate was bad enough, but not knowing what would happen to Savitar was killing her. She had a primal need to protect her mate that was screaming at her to do something.**

**Just exactly what though, she didn't know. **


	9. Death at Midnight

Savitar glared in annoyance at the bickering people in front of him. He'd never had the patience for the insignificant plights of the Were council, and now that he had Syri waiting for him to go back to her…. He was majorly pissed. He missed her with a physical longing, and their separation was starting to wear on him. He wanted, needed to be near her. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrest of his throne.

"Is something wrong?"

The voice of Alexander James, the Arcadian Panthiras, cut through his thoughts.

"No," he answered immediately.

He cursed himself for showing emotions in front of anyone. At least anyone who wasn't Syri. Damn, why did every thought always seem to lead back to her? It might've had to do with the fact that he was obsessed with her way past the bounds of sanity…

"You seem agitated," Alexander continued, not seeming to notice that the rest of the council was now focused on Savitar too.

"You guys are boring as hell to listen to," Savitar snapped back, raking his hand through his hair. "And if you guys don't finish soon I'm going to-"

He was cut off by a loud gasp.

"Mon dieu," Nicolette Peletier exclaimed as she stared at his raised palm. "You are mated."

Savitar quickly lowered his hand and swore under his breath. He hadn't meant for anyone to know about Syri, even though he knew that her scent was all over him. He'd hoped everyone would just assume he'd met a stranger and taken her home. Having people know he was mated was dangerous to her, and he wouldn't stand to have her in harm's way. He would tear apart anyone who threatened her.

"Your point?" he snapped.

"It is Syriana."

It wasn't a question, and Savitar swore again. Louder this time.

"How do you know that?" he demanded, leaning forward to glare at the bearswan.

"She lived at Sanctuary for a short time after she was...injured. Her scent is familiar to me."

"Syri?"

Savitar's gaze flew to Jace Wilder...Syri's cousin. The blonde cheetah looked uncertain and hopeful as he eyed the exchange. Savitar frowned as he remembered just how much he owned the man for saving Syri.

"Yes, your cousin," he finally answered.

"Is she alright? I haven't heard from her since that night."

"Of course you idiot. Like I would ever let anything happen to her."

Jace looked mildly appeased, and leaned back.

"Now," Savitar started, glaring at each member of the Omegrion in turn. "If you'd be so kind as to finish arguing like children, I can get back to said mate. The next person who holds me up is going through a wall. And if I ever find one of you sniffing around her, your head is going through the wall while your body stays in place. Are we clear?"

Silent nods went around the room.

"Good. You have thirty seconds."

* * *

><p>"Something's not right."<p>

Vane's nervous voice made Savitar tense.

The two of them had just flashed into the living room of the wolf's house, the Omegrion meeting having ended not ten seconds ago. But the house was eerily quiet, void of laughter or voices. The sound of the air conditioner was clearly discernible in the silence. And when the two of them caught sight of a footprint on the otherwise snow-white carpet, a very obviously masculine footprint, they cursed.

"Bride," Vane growled.

"Syri," Savitar answered flatly.

Both of them reached out with their minds, feeling their way to their mates. The mating marks were still clear on their palms, so they weren't dead…

"Vane?"

The wolf let out an audible sigh of relief when Bride appeared in the doorway, Trace clutched in her arms. He flashed over to her and dragged her to his chest, holding his family protectively against him. Savitar on the other hand, paled when he saw Bride's expression. Her normally shining eyes were wide with fear, her lips pressed into a thin line. When she met his gaze, sympathy covered her face, and he jerked back in denial.

"No," he snarled.

"I'm so sorry Savitar. I tried. But when I got there she was already gone and-"

"_No_."

He clenched his fists, hands shaking ever so slightly.

"She's not gone," he hissed.

"Savitar-"

He flashed upstairs, not caring about the rest of her sentence. Closing his eyes, he reached for her aura, calling every bit of power he had to find her. He let his feet carry him, finally pausing at the doorway to the room where her aura was strongest, where she'd been last. The nursery. Her scent was strong, and he paled even further when he recognized the other scent in the room. Styxx. He'd expected it to be, but knowing he had Syri…

He sent a god-bolt into the rocking chair in the corner, incinerating the hand-carved wood into a pile of ashes. Fury coursed through him as he imagined what he were doing to her, what she was suffering at his hands. She hadn't fully grown into her powers yet and-. He nearly set the whole house on fire when he realized that though powerful, Styxx was still technically human and didn't have near the capabilities it would take to restrain a Were-Hunter's powers. That could only mean someone much stronger than the average Were, someone like a demigod…. Stryker. It had to be. He was the only person foolish and brainless enough to risk pissing off Savitar.

And the only one with the protection to do so. Killing him would kill Ash's mother, Apollymi. She'd given him her blood and now the two had their lives linked, much the same as Ash and Styxx. He flashed back downstairs.

"Vane," he barked, not caring if he was interrupting something.

Nothing mattered but Syri, and she was gone. He would stop at nothing to get her back. Having her taken from him was like having his heart ripped out, only more painful, and he _needed_ to have her back with him. To know she was safe. He'd promised her he'd never let anything happen to her, and because of his stupidity…. He should've just brought her to the meeting, rules of the Omegrion be damned. If he had, none of this would've happened-

"Yeah?" Vane answered.

"Call out your pack. Call the damned sentinels if you have to. But _find her_."

"Savitar-"

"No. I'm telling you right now that if something happens to her, I will not hesitate to release Apollymi. And if she dies, I swear that I will end the world by my own hand."

He flashed back to Neratiti without another word. The doors to his bedroom came off their hinges he threw so much power at them. Raw pain was cutting him from the inside out as he remembered the hours he'd spent in here just holding Syri, whispering nonsense to her just because he liked having her close to him. For the first time in his life, he felt his control on his powers starting to slip. Even when his family had been murdered, he'd kept a firm lid on his emotions. But now…

A sheet of paper on the crimson sheets caught his attention. With a flick of his wrist, it was in his hand. Scrawling handwriting covered the heavy stationary.

_Kyrian of Thrace_

_Amanda & Marissa Hunter_

_Tabitha Devereaux _

_Talon Runningwolf_

_Nick & Cherise Gautier_

_ You have until midnight. Kill them all. Her life depends on it. _

The windows shattered as a wave of energy so powerful lightning cut across the sky flew out of him. Every candle in the room blew out, and the walls cracked under the pressure. But he couldn't bring himself to care as the still crystal-clear writing mocked him from the page. Stryker and Styxx knew he couldn't kill them, and they were using Syri's life as a bargaining chip. He didn't even dare try to track them for fear they'd kill her before he could get her to safety. It was almost comical, the fact that the most powerful being in the universe was helpless against a human and a daimon. But he was trapped, and they all knew it. With no other options...he glared at the note he'd crushed in his grip.

He had a vague idea who these people were. Acheron had mentioned them a few times in passing. Kyrian and Talon were ex Dark-Hunters, having had their souls returned to them by their wives. Amanda was Kyrian's wife, and Marissa was no doubt the infant Simi was forever babbling about. Cherise Gautier was completely human, and yet Ash had a soft spot for the woman. Her son Nick was supposedly his best friend.

Savitar froze.

_Dear gods, I'm supposed to kill everyone he loves._

So that was what they wanted. For him to eliminate everything Acheron held dear, something they couldn't do on his own. Savitar growled. He wouldn't do it. He couldn't destroy Acheron like that. He knew firsthand how much betrayal and loss hurt, how deep they cut.

But Syri.

He couldn't lose her. He wouldn't survive it, and he knew it. She was everything good in him, everything he needed. She was his heart and his strength, and he had no doubt he would die if she was gone. She was everything to him.

Acheron.

Close to losing it, Savitar lashed out again, setting fire to the beach outside his window. He couldn't betray his friend, and he couldn't let Syri go. He would never be able to. What he needed was time to think, but the clock was already ticking. He only had three hours left to midnight, and he had to act. Now.

With a nasty curse, he flashed to New Orleans.

Kyrian Hunter's house loomed up in front of him, the mansion bright, giving off nothing but joyful auras. He could feel the ex Dark-Hunter inside with his wife and child. They were talking, laughing. Before Syri, he wouldn't have given a damn, couldn't have cared less. But now, after she'd shown him how to care, how to love again, he flinched with the knowledge of what he was about to do. Steeling his will, he flashed inside.

Amanda screamed when she saw him. Kyrian leapt to his feet, snatching his sword from where it idled on the coffin-shaped coffee table and extended it. His laughing green eyes were narrowed into slits, and they spit fire. He pushed his wife behind him. Amanda clutched Marissa to her chest. Vaguely, Savitar felt both of them sending their powers out to him, Amanda to block his own, Kyrian to read his mind. He cut both of them off easily. He took a step forward, and Kyrian tensed, leaning forward into a crouch. He was every inch the Greek general of his past, but his powers meant nothing to Savitar. With a wave of his hand, Kyrian's sword disappeared and reappeared in Savitar's grip.

Kyrian gritted his teeth together.

"Who are you?" he growled.

"Savitar."

There was no point lying. They would all be dead soon anyway. Kyrian's eyes widened in recognition.

"Savitar? What are you doing here? None of us are Weres."

"I didn't come here on Omegrion business."

Kyrian tensed again.

"If you're here for me-"

"I'm here for all of you."

Amanda gasped softly, and Kyrian backed up slowly until he was directly in front of her. He put a hand behind him to touch her arm.

"If you have to, take me and leave them Savitar. Whatever this is about, they have nothing to do with it. Leave my wife and daughter out of it."

Savitar felt a pang as he felt the sincerity pouring out of Kyrian. The man really was willing to suffer anything to protect his family. He'd gladly relive his torture and crucification if it meant Amanda and Marissa would remain safe and unharmed. But Syri came first.

"But that's where you're wrong Kyrian. Especially about your daughter. Her, I need the most."

With another wave of his hand, Marissa flew form Amanda's arms into his. The toddler squalled, crying for her mommy. Amanda screamed again. She ran forward, and fought wildly against Kyrian's grip when he pulled her back. Pure terror flashed in the Greek general's eyes.

"Savitar," he said shakily. "I will do anything you ask me to. Don't hurt her."

"I have to."

Savitar gritted his teeth. He didn't want to harm the child in his arms. Dear gods, she reminded him of Kyra. But he needed to. He had to. Using a mental shield to keep Kyrian and Amanda back, he raised the sword in his hand. He aimed it at Marissa's heart. He-

Gods help him, he couldn't do it.

He let the sword clatter to the floor, let Marissa fly back to her mother.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I-, I can't-"

He flashed them all to Neratiti, the empty room in the south wing of the palace. With a quick murmured spell, they all collapsed, asleep. He flashed to New Orleans again. He grabbed Cherise Gautier from the kitchens of Sanctuary. She joined Kyrian and Amanda. He snatched Talon Runningwolf from the arms of his wife and dropped him in an unceremonious heap next to Marissa. Lastly, he pulled Nick from the front seat of his car, Tabitha from the passenger side.

He stepped back and watched the people in front of him slowly come awake.

Kyrian was up first, running to his fallen wife and child. He checked them over frantically. Nick was up next, bolting to his mother. Tabitha and Talon both swept the room with cursory sweeps. When they saw Savitar, they leapt to their feet, ready to fight. He put up another invisible wall between him and everyone else.

"You are all here because I have to kill you," he started softly.

Nick cursed colorfully, and Tabitha looked offended.

"Whoever you are Mr. Hot and Tattooed," Tabitha snorted. "You can forget that idea."

"I don't think you heard me Ms. Devereaux. Not I want to. I have to."

"Excuse me?" Nick snapped.

"I have no choice."

"Not that dumb ass. Why won't my mom wake up?"

"Because I'm keeping her that way. I know she knows nothing of us. I know you want to keep it that way."

"Well brining her here for her execution is a great way to keep a secret you worthless son of a-"

Kyrian clapped a hand over Nick's mouth.

"You know you won't get away with this, right?" he said. "Ash won't let you touch Marissa."

"Or any of us for that matter," Tabitha added. "I don't think you realize how close to him we all are."

"No Tabitha, he does," Talon said, stoic as always.

He eyed Savitar evenly, calmly.

"We're here _because_ of T-Rex, aren't we?" he asked.

Savitar nodded slowly.

"Like I said, I have no choice."

"What do you mean no choice?" Nick exploded, tearing free of Kyrian.

Tabitha frowned, furrowing her brow.

"He loves someone," she murmured.

Everyone gasped, and Savitar gritted his teeth together. How had he failed to see she was an empath? His anger had made him careless.

"Who is she?" Amanda asked.

"Not the point," he growled.

"Yes it is," Tabitha continued. "I think she's the reason why you're doing this."

Talon nodded.

"Whoever it is, he has her, doesn't he," he stated quietly.

"How-"

"I felt the same when Camulus took Sunshine."

"Well then you know I speak the truth when I say that I have no choice."

"We can help you," Amanda said gently.

"No. You can't."

Savitar said the words bitterly, flashing the note into her hands. She gasped as she read it, and Kyrian snatched it from her. He paled as he observed the instructions written on it.

"As you can see," Savitar continued darkly. "You are all the price I pay for her. I made a promise to her that I'd keep her safe, and I will not allow her to be hurt."

"So you're just going to kill us all in cold blood?" Nick snapped. "You are one heartless mother fu-"

Once again, Nick was cut off by Kyrian.

"I would do anything for my family," he said gravely. "But I'm sure there's another way out of this."

"Damn it, _no there isn't_. I can't kill Styxx without killing Acheron, and I can't kill Stryker without killing Apollymi. I can't even locate her with my mind right now, so for all I know, she's already dead."

He sounded hysteric, and he didn't give a damn anymore. He just needed Syri.

"I can't lose her," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "I can't."

"And you don't have to."

Ash's voice made them all whirl towards the door.

He was leaning against the heavy wood paneling, arms crossed against his chest. His sunglasses were on, but Savitar knew it was him.

"Ash," he acknowledged in a deadpan.

"Savitar."

"I would tell you it's not what it looks like, but I've never been one to lie."

"And I've never been one to be lied to."

Ash pushed himself off the doorframe and walked into the room, his expression giving away nothing. But Savitar knew him well enough to see both the anger and the understanding on his face. He sighed in defeat.

"I know you won't let me hurt them Ash. And as much as I hate to say it, I _will_ kill you if I have to."

It made him sick just thinking about hurting Ash, and to actually kill him made him want to retch. Yet he knew without a doubt that if it came down to that, he would do it. He couldn't let Syri die. He wouldn't be able to live through it. So he steeled himself for Ash's answer, mentally shielding himself from any attacks that might've been launched his way.

"I know," Acheron answered. "I didn't expect anything else."

"What?"

"I've been around long enough to know the wrath of the gods when their loved ones are in danger. And I've been around enough Weres to know that getting between them and their mates is the last mistake you'll ever make. I don't plan on trying to stop you."

"Acheron!" Tabitha near shrieked. "I am so banning you and Simi from my shop!"

Acheron looked mildly miffed, but kept his expression stoic.

"I never said I'd let him kill you Tabby."

"So what on earth-"

"We're going to help him."

Nick looked like he was going to have a heart attack.

"You want us to _help_ this pathetic bastard?" he demanded. "Because you can go ahead and shove that request right up your-"

"We'd be happy to help," Amanda interrupted.

Kyrian nodded.

"I don't know how I feel about you threatening my wife and child, but it's the right thing to do…"

Talon and Tabby hesitated, but nodded too.

"Great," Nick grumbled. "Now we're all one big happy, freaking insane rescue team."

He scowled.

"Whoopee."

* * *

><p>"Can I talk to you for a second?"<p>

Savitar didn't have to turn to know it was Kyrian behind him. His aura and mind were perfectly clear to him.

"Yes," he answered quietly.

Kyrian walked into the room just off of the Omegrion chamber, his surprise obvious as he took in the ornately decorated walls, the expensive tapestries. The ocean rumbled in the distance, darkness gathering beyond the balcony where the two of them now stood. Light from inside the palace threw an eerie glare over everything. Savitar felt Kyrian pause for a second. Sighing, he turned, leaning against the banister as he eyes the Greek general evenly.

"Did you need something?" he asked.

Kyrian hesitated a second before answering.

"I'd lie and say no, but you'd know. Amanda wanted me to check on you."

"Tell her I'm ecstatic."

"Savitar-"

"Have you ever had her taken from you Kyrian?"

He paused and concentrated on his thoughts.

"You did. Once. You thought Desiderius was controlling her."

Kyrian nodded.

"I thought it was Theone all over again."

"I bet now you're glad I never stepped in."

"What?"

"I know everything Kyrian. I can't see the future, but you really think I wouldn't know about the gods cursing Julian into a sex slave while they crucified Greece's most powerful general?"

"You could've...stopped them?"

"Before I answer that, do you really wish that I had?"

"No."

Kyrian's answer was immediate and assured.

"If you had I never would've met Amanda. I would relive that all a thousand times over if it would mean one kiss from her."

"Then you know exactly how damn _not fine_ I am right now. It's almost eleven and I have less than one hour to get her back, but the only thing Acheron told me was to freaking sit still and wait. I'm giving him ten more minutes before I damn the entire world and kill everybody in it. I don't care what I have to do as long as she's with me again."

"Do you really love her that much?"

Without a word, Savitar raised his palm.

"Yeah. I do."

Kyrian whistled between his teeth.

"Have you completed the bond yet?"

"No. We have about a week and a half left."

"What if-"

"If you even think about finishing that sentence, I will blast you into the next century. And unlike other people, I _can_ do it."

Kyrian stayed silent.


	10. Kalosis

"**Don't have a very high pain threshold, do we," Styxx mused.**

**He stared down at her with a blank, if not slightly amused, expression. His face, so identical to Acheron's, was impossibly different as cold detachment radiated from every one of his features. Even Stryker had had trepidations about torture, but Styxx had simply waved his accomplice from the room. He had absolutely no problems with tying people down and cutting them open, and he'd spent the last hour proving that. **

"**Bastard," Syri whispered, trying not to show any pain in her voice.**

**When he'd first entered her small cell, she'd assumed it'd been to talk. But then she'd been restrained and he'd started twirling a knife around his fingers. The cold steel had glinted in the lamplight as he hovered over her, asking the occasional question about Acheron. Questions that, in all honesty, she couldn't answer. She didn't know Savitar's friend very well, but that hadn't seemed to matter to Styxx.**

"**Now, do we have a better answer?" he asked. "'I don't know' just doesn't cut it with me I'm afraid."**

**He looked down to admire his handiwork.**

"**One more letter and I'm all finished. I'm not sure what I'm going to carve after that."**

**Syri bit her lip. ****καταραμένος was clearly etched across her stomach, the Greek word for cursed. Unlike what he believed, she'd always had a high pain tolerance, but her fear was adding to the feel of the knife biting into her skin, and it burned like nothing else she'd ever felt. She truly didn't know the answers to the things he asked her, but that didn't seem to matter to him.**

"**I assumed he'd be here by now," he continued. "I gave him until midnight. Guess he doesn't care about you that much after all."**

**Syri screamed as the knife came down again. The last letter was just above the claw marks that ended on her right hip. She doubted it would scar, the word wasn't cut deep enough, but it still hurt. She blinked a few times as she forced back her tears. She would not allow her weakness to be seen. After decades of making sure of that, she wasn't about to change anything for a human who used his twin to shield himself. **

"**Cursed," he read aloud. "It fits. I know of your past."**

**She stayed silent.**

"**Not feeling very talkative," he observed. "Just as well, when-"**

**The door to the room flew open.**

**Syri caught her breath, before she realized that the person in the doorway wasn't Savitar. It was Stryker. His normally stoic face was a picture of rage as he stormed into the room. She winced away from him, but when he struck Styxx instead of her, she relaxed. Styxx flew into the opposite wall, hitting it with a sickening thud before he sank to the floor.**

"**You **_**idiot**_**," Stryker hissed. "What did you **_**do**_**?"**

"**What are you talking about you damned daimon?"**

"**Why the hell is Acheron's wraith in the throne room with Apollymi right now?"**

**Styxx paled. **

"**He-"**

"**Knows we're here!"**

"**I didn't-"**

"**Please tell me that note you left said something about not telling Acheron."**

"**Well-"**

**Stryker cut him off with a disgusted sneer.**

"**If you think I'm going to stick around to watch Savitar rip your heart out, then you have a few lessons to learn human. Daimons aren't that honorable."**

**He left the room and slammed the doors behind him. Styxx looked stricken for a second before he leapt into action. With a few slashes of the knife, she was free from the table she'd been tied to, and he dragged her to her feet. When she was upright, he pulled her towards the door, kicking it in and pulling her through it. They fairly ran down the corridor. The morbid beauty of the halls of Kalosis were lost on her as she was forced under an elaborate awning into what she assumed was the throne room. **

"**Acheron?" she gasped.**

**He was standing at the other end of the room, opposite a terrifyingly beautiful woman she instinctively knew was Apollymi. But when he turned to face her, his form blurred, like it was only a projection of him. And when she looked closer, she realized it was. **

"**Syriana," he acknowledged calmly. "Are you okay?"**

"**Yes."**

**Acheron swung his silver gaze to Styxx.**

"**I didn't think you would go this far."**

"**You underestimate me," Styxx sneered back.**

"**So I did. I thought even you were smarter than that."**

"**Don't patronize me!"**

"**Savitar would never be so low as to murder innocents, and I would never stand to see him suffer because of me."**

"**You can't set foot here! Don't think I haven't planned this out."**

"**I'm sure you have."**

"**You ignorant-"**

"**Enough!"**

**Syri jerked back as Apollymi rose to her feet. She carried the same aura of ageless power and knowledge that her son did, but with hers was an edge of near cruelty that made Syri shiver.**

"**You, human," she addressed Styxx. "You have no place in this realm. Stryker oversteps his bounds."**

"**Apollymi-"**

"**You are all fools to believe that I wouldn't know what happens in my own home. And to believe that I will allow you to harm my son."**

"**As you can see, this girl has nothing to do with Acheron."**

**Apollymi's eyes narrowed to slits.**

"**The Destroyer knows all," she said in a deadly quiet voice.**

**She gave an almost imperceptible nod, and suddenly, Savitar was standing next to her.**

**Syri nearly cried in relief when she saw him. His handsome face was drawn with worry, and his jaw was clenched tightly. Fury radiated from every line of his tensed body, and his eyes shone a terrifying black she'd never seen before, but she'd never felt safer than she did with him. She ached to be in his embrace again, but the arms holding her in place right now weren't his. The knife pressed to her throat was an all too clear reminder of that. **

"**Syri," he breathed. **

**He took a step towards her, and Styxx dragged her back.**

"**I may be human," he said. "But thousands of years fending for myself have taught me a few things. Come closer and I **_**will**_** slit her throat."**

**Savitar's eyes swirled obsidian and slate, much the way the silver of Acheron's eyes did. He bared his teeth in a snarl that was every bit as gracefully feral as it was menacing. **

"**Yes," he answered in a velvet soft voice that somehow managed to me more threatening than anything louder would've been. "You **_**are**_** human. And you forget that I am a Chthonian."**

"**You think I don't know you can't kill me?"**

"**Oh, I never said I would kill you."**

**He took another step forward, and for the first time, Syri felt fear from Styxx. His arm tightened around her, and the knife bit down harder. She felt a trickle of blood on her throat, and she knew Savitar saw it too. He growled, and the sound was so animalistic it put any Were to shame.**

"**Touch her again, and I will tear your heart out so fast you'll be able to see it before you hit the floor screaming," he hissed.**

"**You forgot the part where you can't kill me."**

"**I never said you would die."**

**And with that, Styxx was no longer standing behind her. He flew through the air and hit the back wall of the throne room so hard it left a crack in the marble. Syri crumpled when he was no longer holding her up, the strength in her legs gone, but she never touched the floor. A pair of arms caught her and pulled her upright, crushing her to a steely chest.**

"**Savitar," she whispered, burying her face against his shirt.**

**She hated herself for showing such weakness. She'd promised herself she would learn from her mistakes and make herself stronger, but for once in her life, she wanted to know what it felt like to have someone to fall back on. **

"**Shh, sweeting," he murmured. **

**She pressed herself closer to him, then winced as she remembered her wounds. She jerked away from him. **

"**Syri, what's wrong?"**

**Hesitantly, she shifted the robe Styxx had thrown at her before he'd dragged her from her room and showed him the word carved on her stomach. It wasn't devastatingly deep, but it was still trickling blood. She flinched when the cool air hit it. **

"**Bástardos," he whispered, the Greek curse sounding all the harsher in his quiet voice. **

**His eyes, having melted back to their customary lavender when he looked at her, slowly slid back to an ebony so deep his pupils were no longer discernible from his irises. **

"**Acheron?" he asked. **

"**You know I have no objections."**

**Acheron's wraith disappeared. **

"**Apollymi?"**

"**Just don't do it in my throne room."**

**Savitar nodded.**

"**Would you-"**

"**She will be healed by the time you return."**

**Savitar looked back down at her.**

"**I will be back soon my love," he told her, stroking her hair. "I have some things to do."**

"**Savitar-"**

"**Apollymi is a friend. She won't harm you."**

"**I'm worried about you."**

**Savitar laughed softly.**

"**I'll be fine. I just have to take care of a few things."**

**He kissed her forehead and then both he and Styxx were gone.**

* * *

><p>"<strong>I guess this means I owe you Atlantean."<strong>

"**I guess it kind of does."**

**Syri stayed perfectly still, not wanting either of them to know she was awake. After Savitar had flashed them back to Neratiti, he'd exiled her to bed until further notice. Normally, she would've thrown a fit about being ordered around, but she was too exhausted to argue with him. She desperately needed peace and quiet to rest, to think, but Acheron had just dropped by to talk and Savitar refused to leave her side. **

"**How did you find her?"**

"**She was hidden from you adelfós. Not from me."**

"**That doesn't explain-"**

"**It took me a while to sort through the several billion fates on the planet and to find one that I couldn't see. And then my mother's never been particularly partial to you. Convincing her took some time. She didn't relish the thought of war going down in her foyer."**

"**Kalosis?"**

"**Styxx's idea no doubt. Stryker was just playing along."**

**Savitar growled low in his throat.**

"**Those two…"**

"**Speaking of which. What'd you do to Styxx?"**

**Even with her eyes firmly clothed, Syri could envision the nasty smirk on Savitar's face.**

"**Until someone finds him, he's going to be begging the gods to switch places with Tantalus and Sisyphus. I'll leave it at that."**

"**Savitar-"**

"**I was born to pass judgement on gods Acheron. I will not rescind my punishment on a human who thinks to tamper with things beyond his bounds."**

"**You mean who thinks to tamper with Syri."**

"**It's the same damn thing."**

"**Whatever you say."**

**There was a brief pause, and Syri fought the urge to open her eyes to see what was happening. **

"**What are you going to do about Stryker?" Acheron finally asked.**

"**Nothing."**

"**Are you-"**

"**Yet."**

"**And there's the catch."**

"**Did you really think I'd let him go unpunished?"**

"**He's in a bolt hole right now."**

"**I figured as much. But there isn't a place in this dimension or any other he can hide. You of all people should know that."**

"**Yeah. I do."**

**Savitar hesitated.**

"**Acheron? Thanks."**

**Syri nearly choked. This was coming from the man who had very distinctly told her that gratitude made you weak.**

"**I...she's everything to me. I'm in your debt for that."**

"**We're even."**

"**What?"**

"**You didn't kill them."**

"**I would have."**

"**But you didn't. And for that, we're even."**

**There was another short silence before Acheron said his goodbyes. Seconds later, Syri felt a dip in the mattress as Savitar sat on the edge of it. He touched her mouth lightly before he started fiddling with an errant strand of hair that had escaped her braid. **

"**You're going to have to work on pretending," he murmured in a decidedly amused tone.**

**Her eyes flew open.**

"**You knew?"**

**He laughed softly, bending to nuzzle her cheek with his lips. **

"**Of course I did sweeting. Acheron knew too."**

**She felt herself flush as he shifted to lay down next to her, balancing on his side as he propped himself up on one elbow. He twined his free hand with hers, bringing them to his lips so he could brush a kiss on the back of her knuckles. He smiled when he caught sight of the mating mark on her palm.**

"**I don't think I'll ever get tired of seeing this," he murmured.**

"**Ever?"**

**His smile widened. **

"**Five thousand years from now, I'm still going to be as completely head over heels for you as I am now. So yes, ever."**

**She frowned.**

"**Five thousand? I'm pretty sure I'll be dead by then."**

"**Never."**

**His voice was a low growl, his eyes suddenly blazing. Before she could do more than open her mouth to ask him what was wrong, he'd rolled them over until she was trapped underneath him. Both of his hands were laced with hers as he held them immobile on either side of her head, pinning her to the bed. He straddled her hips, most of his weight balanced on his knees. Feral light shone from his gaze, and his teeth were bared.**

"**Never," he repeated.**

**He bent low, rubbing his whiskered cheek against hers, sending shivers the length of her spine. He nibbled a path to just below her jaw before moving up and tracing the shell of her ear with his tongue. She squirmed as she felt desire building in her body. Completely forgetting the fact that she'd nearly been killed, conveniently forgetting the fact that he had almost killed, she arched underneath him. A rough laugh escaped his throat, and he buried his face in her hair. **

"**Never," he murmured. "I will never allow Hades to take you."**

"**How-"**

"**Bond with me."**

**He must've felt her shock, because he pulled back far enough to meet her gaze. She wasn't upset, far from it. She'd meant it when she'd decided to ask him to complete the mating, but she'd never truly believed he would agree to it. Now though, with his eyes darkening to that smoldering, lust-filled violet, his body tense as a live wire above her, and his expression speaking of nothing except honesty and sincerity, she couldn't doubt his words.**

"**Savitar-"**

"**You are mine," he said darkly. **

**She shivered at the protective possessiveness she heard in his voice. She'd never been one to put up with anyone who dared to lay actual claim to her person, but with Savitar…. There was something in his tone that told her he meant it more as explanation for his actions than anything else. She knew him well enough to know he'd never infringe on her independence. **

"**And you're mine," she answered back, not able to help the small smile that crept over her face.**

**His expression relaxed again, and he kissed her fleetingly.**

"**I think I could get used to the idea."**

"**Hmm, you better."**

**Mildly surprised with her own outspokenness, she brought their lips together again and kissed him with every bit of passion she felt, pouring her love for him into that one simple touch. His almost inaudible moan was music to her ears, and she felt his grip on her hands loosen. **

"**Because," she continued, slipping her fingers from his to wrap her arms around his neck. "I want to bond with you. Here. Now."**

**His eyes flashed surprise.**

"**Syri, you-"**

"**I want to."**

"**There are ways-, I could keep you alive even if you didn't want to tie yourself to me. The Fates can't go against my decisions."**

"**Savitar, I **_**want**_** to. You're the only person whose ever made me feel like I matter, like I mean something."**

"**You mean **_**everything**_**," he said fiercely. "No one will dare to say otherwise."**

"**And you're the only one to protect me like this. For the first time in my life I know what it's like to have someone to rely on, someone to hold on to. Please, don't take that away from me."**

"**Syri-"**

"**I love you."**

**Those three words seemed to be his undoing. With a tortured groan, he crushed their mouths together with bruising force, his kiss so rawly needing that she gasped. His lips and tongue were absolute sin as they drove her completely mindless, her body turning to liquid fire underneath his. Desire, pure and undiluted, filled the air around them, and she pulled him closer to her, desperate to feel more of him. Like he'd read her thoughts, their clothes disappeared. The feel of his bare skin against hers was pure pleasure, and she let out an incredibly feline purr as she arched up into him. **

**He broke his lips from hers, kissing a path down her neck to nibble at the hollow of her throat. She moaned her encouragement, and he continued farther down, lavishing the same attention on her breasts. The burn in her body smoldered, and she pulled him back up to her lips so she could show him exactly what she wanted. **

"**My turn," she whispered. **

"**What?"**

**She just smiled before she started nibbling his jaw, tracing the hard edge of it. The serpent that coiled around his throat captivated her, and she took her time outlining every scale with the tip of her tongue. When she nudged his shoulder, he let her roll them over so she was straddling him. His soft groans gave her a sense of femininity she'd never had before, the fact that she could make him feel like this made her want to see what else she could make him feel…**

"**Syri," he muttered when she kissed a path down his chest, to his stomach.**

"**Hmm?"**

"**What are you doing?"**

"**Exploring."**

**She answered honestly, completely fascinated with every dip and curve of his body she'd never taken the time to see the other times they'd been together. Every inch of him was lean muscle, and she watched in fascination as the ridged iron of his stomach clenched under her touch. She cocked her head to the side as she raked her fingers through the curls at the center of his body, experimentally brushing against him. His convulsive shudder was enough to tell her what she wanted to know, and she stroked him with light, delicate strokes. It was strange, feeling him in her hand. Velvet over iron in her palm. His hooded eyes blazed desire as he watched her. **

"**I want you," he said raggedly. **

**She bent to kiss him briefly, never once stopping the motion of her hands. He ground himself into her touch with small groans, and she hesitantly circled his tip with her nail. He almost came off the bed, and she smiled in satisfaction. A sudden thought entered her head, and before she could change her mind, she slid down his body to take him into her mouth.**

"**Hot **_**damn**_**," he hissed. **

**A fine sheen of sweat covered his dusky skin, and his breathing was labored as he stroked her hair while she teased him with her tongue. She'd always considered sex to be a rather unpleasant thing, but with Savitar, it went straight from unappealing to addicting in zero to sixty. And hearing and seeing his pleasure only made it that much better. She nibbled gently and was rewarded by a loud curse. **

"**Stop," he ordered throatily. "I already want you too much. This has to be your decision."**

**She didn't stop or slow, and he cursed again, louder. After a second, he pulled her back up to his lips, rolled her under him, and kissed her so ravishingly it should've been illegal.**

"**Savitar, wha-"**

"**Can't wait. Next time."**

**And then he was inside her.**

"**Gods, I love you," he groaned, burying his face in her neck. **

**Each one of his strokes were hard and long, making her toes curl as she arched her hips to take him deeper. He mumbled his approval as he hooked her legs around his waist so he sank in to the hilt with each thrust. The pleasure was driving her crazy, and she kissed him desperately with a wild abandon she'd never known she possessed. And before she knew it, he'd pulled out, flipped her over, and reentered her with enough force to make her cry out. **

**The new angle let him go even deeper than before, and every one of his thrusts was accompanied by one of their delirious moans. If they kept this up, it wouldn't be long before they both exhausted themselves for the night, Were or not. Needing to end this, for her sanity as much as it was for her body's demands, Syri tightened around him, clamping down tightly. The effect was immediate and intense as he exploded inside of her, his arms going rigid as he kept his trembling body from collapsing on top of her. Relief flooded her, and with one last thrust, she felt her release claim her. **


	11. Eternally Yours

Watching Syri climax in his arms was by far the best sight he'd ever experienced.

Her impossibly beautiful face was rapturous with pleasure, and knowing it was pleasure he gave her made him smile with pure male satisfaction. While she wound down, he kissed her scarred temple, trailing the marks down her cheek so he could rest his lips against her throat. They made her all the more perfect to him, but they also reminded him he had a certain Arcadian cheetah to take care of. Filing that thought away for later, he returned his attention to his woman.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I couldn't wait."

She smiled sweetly and took his hand so she could nuzzle his palm. Her cat-like actions made him grin, and he bent to nip her chin.

"Playful, are we?" he teased.

"Hmm, now that we've gotten the hot and heavy out of the way…"

He gave her an indignant stare.

"I may not be a Were my sweet, but I certainly have enough stamina to go another round...or five."

She laughed, and the delicate, joyed sound made his heart skip a beat.

"That's not what I meant love."

She kissed the corner of his mouth, which led to another long kiss that left him breathless, and not for lack of oxygen. He could never seem to get enough of her, his renewed erection was proof of that. He had a hard time reminding himself that it was her choice to initiate the bonding, and that every step of it had to be taken by her decision, and her decision alone. Considering that he was hard enough that he could've cold-showered it a hundred times and still have barely left a dent in his arousal, he thought he was doing a pretty good job of waiting for her. But the way her tongue danced with his…

"You better hurry up sweeting, or I might just have to bend the laws of the universe to complete the ritual on my own."

She blushed.

"You wouldn't."

"No?"

He took her hand and led it down to his cock so she could feel exactly what she did to him. Her flush deepened. She quickly slid her hand back to safer locations, and he laughed. Brushing her cheek with his fingers, he kissed her with a tenderness he'd never been able to muster around anyone but her. He pulled back just far enough to meet the amber light in her eyes.

"I love you Syriana Katapardos. What I feel for you will never change, and I will never do anything except protect and care for you. I swear to you now you will always come first in my life, and the rest of the world can go to hell."

"Savitar!"

"Shush woman. I'm proposing to you right now. Or something like it anyway."

He kissed away the rest of her protests before touching his lips to her ear.

"I will love you until the end of eternity," he whispered. "And then whatever comes after this life for us, I'll love you then. Mate with me Syri. Give me the chance to spend my life showing you how precious you are to me."

He'd never been good with the romantic crap that Ash's Dark-Hunters seemed to have an unlimited supply of, but judging by the tears in Syri's eyes, he was doing a pretty good job. She sobbed something that sounded vaguely like a yes before she kissed him with enough passion to seriously test the control he'd placed over his desire. Her mouth was pure heaven against his, and he never wanted to stop kissing her. But after a minute, he pulled back to switch positions with her.

"Now it's up to you," he murmured, cupping her cheek with his palm before dropping his hands to his side.

She leaned down to brush her lips across his in a feather light touch he could've been imagining. Her hands found his and she laced their fingers together, joining both their marked and unmarked hands. A strange current started where their tattooed skin joined, and it went straight to his heart, and admittedly his groin. He bit his lip to keep from doing anything stupid, and he drew blood when she sat up to take him into her body.

It took every ounce of his self control to not grab her hips and urge her to ride him until they both couldn't walk, but somehow he managed it. The feel of her velvet heat around him was the most pleasurable torture he'd ever gone through. He knew he wasn't alone in his torment when he caught her expression, saw the longing there. But he didn't have much time to think about that when she rocked experimentally against him, squeezing tighter around him at the same time. He bit his lip again to keep from coming, pleasure in its purest form coiling around his spine. He finally calmed down a bit when she settled into a slow, steady rhythm that was at least sedate enough to take the edge off.

"I accept you as you are, and I will always hold you close to my heart. I will walk beside you forever."

Hearing those words from her made his heart clench painfully. Gods, he loved her more than he could ever tell her. He didn't have words that could express how much she meant to him.

"I accept you as you are, and I will always hold you close to my heart," he answered in a whisper. "I will walk beside you forever."

Almost instantly, pain racked his body and he arched against the stinging burn of it as his canines lengthened. Fangs were nothing new to him, charcoal eyes weren't the only things that happened when he lost his temper, but this was different. As the _thirio_ cut through him, the overwhelming urge to bite into Syri's delicate throat and join their life forces nearly had him mindless. And when he felt the sting of her teeth on the side of his neck, felt the tug of her lips as she drank greedily, he came so hard he cried out. Ecstasy the only thing he could process, he sank his fangs into her vein, climaxing again as soon as her blood hit his tongue. Sweet and heady, it was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. She reached her pinnacle seconds later, whimpering against his neck as she started to tremble above him.

Slowly, the mix of pain and pleasure faded and he drifted back down to his body. Gingerly, he removed his now blunt teeth from her neck, healing the mark he'd left with nothing more than a thought. He was about to do the same for himself, when he stopped. Deranged as it sounded, he liked the thought of her having a mark on him, one on the outside that everyone else could see. The one she had on his heart was already established, unbreakable and unchangeable.

"Have I ever told you I love you?" she asked, her smile the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

"Maybe. Once or twice. Don't quite remember."

She detangled herself from him before laying down next to him to snuggle against his side.

"Mm, I love you Savitar. More than anyone has ever loved anybody else."

He rolled his eyes at the impossibility of it.

"Don't you know that Chthonians feel everything mortals do magnified a hundred times over?"

"Uh huh."

Was she doubting his feelings for her? Did she honestly think he didn't want to spend ever second of the rest of his immortality with her? He was getting ready to spend the next few hours showing her how _wrong_ that assumption was, when he saw she was teasing.

"And here I thought I was going to have to handcuff you to the bed and prove you wrong," he teased right back.

"Handcuffs?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. "Kinky."

He grinned, flipping them over and landing crouched on top of her.

"I'm willing to experiment."

* * *

><p>He was taking no chances this time.<p>

"Ash?"

"Yeah, I got it covered for a while."

"Savitar's_ akra_ is back!" Simi squealed, hopping up from the television to float across the room.

"Hi Simi," Syri answered shyly, pressing closer to his side.

"You going to have fun. The Simi just got through with her plastic. There's diamonique everywhere."

"Sim, she can't eat diamonique. She's not a demon," Savitar said dryly.

"She can still have hornays."

Seeming undeterred when Savitar shot that idea down too, she turned to Acheron.

"_Akri_, make him go away so the Simi can play with her new friend."

Savitar's smile faded.

"Ash, I'll be back as soon as I'm done. You know-"

"What to do. Yeah. Keep the temperature at 71 fahrenheit, don't let Simi eat her, and try to keep things relatively normal. Oh, and if anyone comes in, kill first, questions later."

"I owe you."

"Uh huh."

Ash went back to strumming his guitar, apparently uninterested with his babysitting job. Savitar looked down at Syri.

"I'll be back soon sweeting," he murmured. "I just have to take care-"

"Of a few things."

She offered him a wavering smile.

"I know. Just be safe, okay?"

It never amazed him, the way she cared about his safety. No one who knew him had ever doubted his strength, and he knew she didn't either, but knowing she was worried about him warmed him in a way nothing else ever had. He dipped his head to kiss her gently, not willing to let it evolve into anything that would result in them down on the marble, doing the deed in the middle of Ash's throne room.

"I love you," he breathed. "I'll be back soon."

He kissed her one last time and flashed out of Katoteros.

And ended up ten feet away from Tristan Wilder.

Rage, pure and uncontrollable took hold of him as he watched the carefree way Syri's rapist was throwing back beers with his friends. If he hadn't had a better handle on his temper, he would've ended the cheetah's life there and then with no more than a passing thought. But the sadistic side of him wouldn't let him do that. He wanted Tristan to suffer every bit of Syri's pain a thousand times over. He would beg for death long before Savitar would grant him that reprieve.

Jace caught his eye from his place at the bar next to Tristan. He owed the man even more now, having asked him to bring his brother here to his execution. But he knew that Jace was as disgusted by Tristan's actions as everyone else and wanted justice as well. Still, asking someone to sentence their own flesh and blood to death was hardly right morally.

Good thing Savitar didn't have morals.

_Tristan Wilder_

He thought the words, but he projected them loud enough for every Were in the bar to hear. It didn't take much conscious effort on his part, and it was enough to turn every non-human head in Sanctuary towards him. He grinned nastily when Tristan jerked back at the sight of the head of the Omegrion singling him out. He raked a hand nervously through his blond hair, obviously having no clue why Savitar was there.

_Because you raped my mate_.

There were gasps around the room. The Arcadians weren't as shocked, being mostly human, but some of the Katagaria were outraged. Animal at heart, they felt everything on an instinctually primal level that put loyalty and respect for their mates above all else. Dev and Remi Peletier shifted restlessly behind the bar, Aimee looking particularly disgusted. Fang Kattalakis's eyes narrowed, his lip curling in disdain.

"Savitar," Tristan started slowly. "That was nearly thirty years ago. She was unmated then."

Completely disregarding the humans in the room, Savitar sent Tristan flying back twenty feet into the bar. Glass and silverware hit the floor, shattering and clinking as it hit the wood.

"You think that matters to me you bastard?" he snarled.

"She was a shame to our Patria! Hell, to our race! What kind of Were can't shift?"

Jace shot to his feet.

"She's our cousin Tristan. Magic or not, she's our blood."

Fury, Fang and Vane's brother, looked sick at that revelation. Even the Arcadians in the bar looked aghast now.

"I regret what I did. It was wrong of me."

"The hell it was," Savitar hissed. "I'm going to show you torture that Hades himself would never dream of."

"I didn't even damage her permanently," Tristan mumbled, getting to his feet.

Savitar hit him with a gold bolt and Tristan hit the floor again, clamping his lips together into a thin line.

"Do you know what it does to someone when they're attacked like that?" Fang demanded, gaze steely and unyielding. "Did you even stop to think about what you were doing to her? I barely know Syri and I'm willing to tear your heart out for that."

His gaze flickered to Aimee, and his eyes hardened even more.

"And you couldn't even leave it at that. Vane told me about her scars."

Savitar gritted his teeth.

"Fang, stay out of this."

"Is that what upsets you?"

Tristan looked slightly quizzical.

"Her scars? You can always heal them if you think they're ugly."

Savitar's temper snapped.

He clenched his hand into a fist and Tristan slammed into the wall, his arms and legs pinned to the wood. Savitar held him immobile as he stalked forward. He knew his eyes were turning obsidian, knew his canines were sharpening into fangs, knew that the air around him was darkening and snapping with the power his anger was throwing off.

And he relished ever second of it.

"Tristan Wilder," he said in a soft voice that didn't fool anybody for a second. "I hope you enjoy pain, because I would have you spend the rest of eternity in torture."

"Savitar-"

With another flick of his wrist, Tristan's jaw snapped shut and he was rendered completely motionless and silent.

"And there's no reason we shouldn't start now."

After sending out a blast of power to repair the bar and wipe the minds of the humans, he flashed himself and Tristan to Neratiti. The basement. Cold. Concrete. The screams of a dying man would be useless here.

Exactly what Savitar was aiming for.

* * *

><p>"Did he, did you-"<p>

Syri hesitated, her hatred for Tristan and her compassion obviously warring with each other.

"I didn't torture him any more than he will be when he reaches Tartarus."

She shuddered.

"I didn't want you to do that," she whispered, curling up closer to him on the bed.

The second he'd finished with Tristan, he'd flashed to Katoteros, grabbed her, and flashed home. The need to reassure himself that she was safe and in his arms had overridden everything else, and he'd spent hours worshipping her with his body. Every second of their time together was burned into his mind, and knowing that he'd finally avenged her gave everything a bittersweet edge that made him restless and volatile. He pulled her closer, tucking her more securely against his side.

"I had to," he murmured back. "Neither of us would've been able to rest otherwise."

"But it-, it's _wrong_."

"Sweeting, you are too kind for your own good."

He kissed the top of her head.

"And that's what I love about you."

Her eyes still reflected worry, but she sighed and let him snake an arm around her shoulders. He stroked the scars on her arm absently, barely noticing them anymore. Her physical beauty never failed to stun him, but it was her heart that he loved. The way she saw him in a way no one else did. The way she'd returned his long-gone soul to him and given him something to live for again.

"I'm sorry I upset you," he apologized, bringing her palm to his lips so he could kiss the mark that blazed against her alabaster skin. "I didn't mean to."

"I know."

She sighed, dropping a swift kiss on his shoulder.

"I knew you weren't going to let him live."

Anyone would be crazy to think otherwise. Even now, he could feel Tristan's blood running over his hands, hear his screams. It made his temper roil, and he slammed a lid down on it before he could do anything rash. Hurting Syri on accident was the last thing he wanted to do, even though he had a niggling feeling that even out of control, his subconscious wouldn't let him hurt her.

"I'm glad it's over," she finished, tilting her head up to meet his eyes.

"I am too love. Now it's just you and me."

Her cheeks flushed. Confused, he wondered why that would embarrass her until he caught the double entendre in his own words. He hadn't meant it that way...was he really that bad with innuendos. Like she could read his mind, Syri nodded.

"Maybe not innuendos, but I know what you're thinking most of the time."

He grinned.

"Care to remind me?"

She bit her lip.

"You have an Omegrion meeting in an hour-"

"Don't worry about it."

"Promise you'll be on time."

He waved a hand at her ridiculousness.

"I didn't mean I was going. I meant I was skipping."

"We still have an hour-"

"Angel, you're going to have to stop doubting my stamina. I can outlast any Were male."

And he spent the next hour...or six, proving exactly that.

* * *

><p>"It's beautiful here," Syri smiled, snuggling deeper into his arms as they watched the sun turn the horizon blood red.<p>

Watching the sunset on the beach had always calmed him down, made him feel at peace. Holding Syri cradled between his legs as he did it now made him feel not only that, but it finalized what he already knew-they had eternity together, and this was just beginning of it.

"_You_, are beautiful," he answered, rolling his eyes at his own cheesiness but meaning it anyway.

She sighed contentedly and turned her head to rest her cheek on his chest.

"Imagine this ten years from now?" she asked. "With our child here with us?"

He tapped her chin playfully.

"Just one? The way we've been going at it, I'm surprised we don't already have ten."

Her cheeks flushed that delectable rose that never failed to make him burn.

"It's only been a week."

"Huh."

She popped him on the arm, eyes shining.

"You're impossible."

"That I am."

"So do you really want children?"

"Yes."

He answered automatically, without hesitation.

"Hmm, I'd like that too. I've been thinking about it for a while."

That surprised him, and he looked down at her quizzically.

"You have?"

"Mm hmm. Since that day at Bride's house. I was holding Trace in the nursery and I thought about what it'd be like to hold our son in my arms."

The thought appealed greatly to him.

"You'll be gorgeous," he said decidedly.

"After being pregnant?" she asked with a small giggle.

"Before, during, after. Doesn't matter to me."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the waves lapping gently at the sand as the sun sank even lower int he sky. There was a faint shine around them, rapidly darkening into night. Neither of them needed light to see, but Savitar materialized candles anyway, adding a warm glow to the air. Syri looked absolutely radiant int the candlelight, and he couldn't help kissing her briefly.

"I don't remember being this happy ever before in my life," she said softly.

"_Akribos_, you are the _only_ happiness in my life."

The tilted her chin up until amber fire met his gaze. Her eyes shone with warmth and love, and he wanted nothing more than to wake up to that every day for the rest of his life.

"I had nothing to tie me to this existence until I met you," he breathed, stroking his thumb over her delicate lips. "There is nothing that I will ever put before you. I have lived an eternity alone, and I will live the next one loving you as no other has before."

"I love you," she whispered back. "I've never let myself open my heart to anyone, but it is yours. Completely."

"As mine is yours."

He'd never thought himself capable of emotions like this, never dreamed he would ever be able to bring himself to utter the words he couldn't seem to stop now. For seventeen thousand years he'd hated the world for its cruelty, his family for leaving, and himself most of all. And now his entire world and family was the woman he wanted to hold in his arms until the day came for the Chthonians to pass on. She was his, and he was hers. Irrevocably.

"This, us," he murmured. "It's forever."

He joined their marked palms, sending that current down his spine, electrifying his senses.

"Is that a promise?"

He smiled slightly, bending to touch their lips together in the briefest and sweetest of kisses.

"Yes sweeting. That's a promise."


End file.
